


Oh.

by PorcupineGirl



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Jack Zimmermann, Ficlet Collection, First Kiss, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, jack in madison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-20 19:09:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcupineGirl/pseuds/PorcupineGirl
Summary: A collection of alternate ways Jack and Bitty could have gotten together if Bad Bob had never given his son that important push at graduation.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I just have a bunch of these little stories buzzing around in my head, and I wanted to start getting a few of them out so I have more room for other stuff.
> 
> Aside from the first chapter, which just sets up Jack not quite prompting Bob to give him the life-changing advice, each chapter is a separate story, other ways Jack and Bitty could have gotten together from there.
> 
> This fic won't be marked complete anytime soon, but there is _absolutely no schedule_ for adding to it, so **please don't ask** when or if another story will be added. I have at least two more of these in my head at the moment, so they may (or may not) be added fairly soon. Beyond that, if any more come to mind and I need a break from other things, I'll add them. If not, ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯. ~~JSYK, it is also _extremely_ unlikely that I will go back and add on to any of these, do sequels, etc. Just enjoy them for the little snippets of canon divergence that they are!~~ I mean, don't get your hopes up for any more, but apparently "extremely unlikely" means "more likely than any of the sequels to other fics that I've actually promised to people."

Jack is really, really going to miss Bittle. He's been thinking about it all week--every time one of them drops into the other's room to chat (or chirp) or just hang out, every time he eats something Bittle has made and wonders if it's the last time he'll taste that particular flavor baked that particular way, every time Bittle wears one of those pairs of shorts with one of those tanks...

He's let himself look a bit more, now that the season is over. Now that they're no longer teammates. Now that he may never get that chance again, either.

He's spent months now, an entire school year, carefully ignoring his attraction to Bittle. He knows the kinds of complications that come from hooking up with a teammate and friend, knows very well why it's a terrible idea and how it can burn a friendship to cinders. The last thing he wants is for something as unimportant as sex to get in the way of two very, very important things: hockey, and his friendship with Bittle. He's proud of himself for finally understanding that there's more than one thing on that list.

He worries, a little, that his attraction might somehow taint his missing Bittle. How crass would it be, how inappropriate and disrespectful, if he were to find himself missing Bittle's tight, round little ass or wide brown eyes instead of the things that really matter? But he knows that those things aren't really what he'll miss the most, any more than the pie is, so he lets himself look. Sometimes.

He reminds himself, as Bitty clings to him (and he maybe clings back more than a little) after graduation, that they'll still be friends. It may never be exactly the same, but he'll make sure they don't drift apart completely. It's the very least he can do after everything Bittle's done for him without even trying. He tries to tell Bittle how much he means to him, how important his friendship has been and how it's changed him as a person—but what comes out is hockey, because Jack hasn't even been able to articulate exactly how and why Bitty is so important to himself, let alone anyone else. He'll work on that, and in the meantime he'll _show_ Bitty how important he is by making sure the distance doesn't come between them, not even this summer.

He's upset to be leaving Shitty and Lardo, too, but it's different with them. They know exactly how much they mean to Jack, where they fit in his life and why they're irreplaceable. He's sure Bittle doesn't. Partially because he thinks Bittle has very little understanding of his own importance in the world in general, in any context, and partially because if Jack can't quite wrap his head around the unique and wonderful place Bittle holds in his life, he certainly doesn't think Bittle has noticed it. He needs to work on that. He's not good at emotions and interpersonal shit, he knows that, but Bitty _deserves_ to know how amazing and important he is. 

Jack needs to spend some time this summer thinking this through so when he sees Bittle this fall he can explain to him exactly why he never has to worry about Jack forgetting about him—or about only seeing Jack on TV. God, it hurts when he says that. Jack needs to find a way to put what's different and important about the way he feels about Bittle into words. And, he thinks as he watches Bittle walk away, he's sure it's nothing to do with his ass, his eyes, or his pies. Or very, very little to do with them, at least.

He's still feeling unsettled when his father starts making noises about leaving. When he says it feels like he hasn't said goodbye to everyone, what he really means is that he hasn't figured out what it means—what it should mean—to say goodbye to Bittle. But when his dad jokingly makes it about hockey, he goes along with it, because he doesn't know what else to say. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oddly enough, I think that the reason he hides his consternation better here, leading to his dad _not_ prompting his revelation, is because he's actually _very slightly_ more self-aware than in canon? At least, here he knows full well that he's feeling unsettled because of Bitty specifically, and doesn't really want to get into that mess with his dad and so hides it better. Whereas in canon, most of the rest of this might be true (as far as him struggling to understand his strange feelings for Bittle leading up to this), but I'm pretty sure right at that moment he was truly completely confused, so his guard was down a little too much.


	2. Story 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It happens in Madison.

He texts Bittle on the way to the restaurant, knowing Bittle isn't even at the airport yet. But he's serious about spending all summer—spending as long as it takes—making sure that Bittle understands how important he is to Jack.

**Jack** : I should never have introduced my mother to George. I think they're conspiring against me already.

**Bittle** : Oh goodness, I can only imagine. But you know they both only have your best interests at heart.

**Jack** : I know, but I think my mother's ideas about my best interests may involve telling my boss a few too many stories about my prepubescent days.

**Bittle** : Oh my! That is a good point, remind me never to let my own mother too close to anyone I ever work for.

**Jack** : I've met your mother twice now, and the only childhood stories she's told have been things involving baking that I really could have guessed myself. That anyone who knows you could have guessed.

**Bittle** : You hush.

Thinking back to the last time Suzanne Bittle visited, Jack has an idea.

**Jack** : Was your mother serious about me coming to visit?

**Bittle** : Oh, gosh! Of course she was, but don't you dare feel any obligation whatsoever. She knows full well you're a busy man with much better things to do.

**Jack** : Would you mind? If I did come?  
I don't have to! It was just an idea.

**Bittle** : Well, of course I wouldn't mind at all! But it's really not that exciting here.

**Jack** : But you're there.

Jack frowns at his phone. That was probably a weird thing to say, even if it's exactly what he meant.

**Jack** : I mean, just because Shitty and Lardo are nearby doesn't mean I want them to be the only friends I see for the next three months.

That's accurate, but now it feels like he's downplaying Bitty's importance. He doesn't just want to see anyone - he wouldn't travel to Georgia to visit Ransom or Holster this summer. But that might also be a strange thing to say.

**Bittle** : Jack, I would LOVE to see you at some point this summer, but I understand how important this is for you, getting started with the Falconers and all, so I totally understand if that's just not in the cards.

**Jack** : I'll see what I can do, ok? I want to come if I can. I've got to get back to talking to people though, my parents are glaring at me for being on my phone.  
I guess now I know how it feels to be you.

**Bittle** : Chirp chirp chirp, Mr Zimmermann. My shuttle is about to get to the airport anyhow, I'll talk to you later.

 

Jack manages to work out a two-day trip to Georgia over the Fourth of July. When he tells Bitty during a Skype call, Bitty gets excited enough that Jack feels far less awkward about his own excitement. Bitty has seemed... not hesitant, exactly, when they've talked about it before, but like he didn't want to get too excited. Jack realizes now that Bitty was trying not to set himself up for disappointment if Jack decided not to come, and resolves to make it very clear how much he's looking forward to seeing Bitty. Maybe when he's there, he can find a way to explain to Bitty how much it would kill Jack to lose him completely, because he's pretty sure Bitty still doesn't understand.

The night before his flight, they stay up far too late texting and Skyping. ("You do realize I will see you in less than twelve hours, Mr. Zimmermann—but not if you oversleep and miss your flight!" "I know, Bittle, I'm going to be in Georgia in less than twelve hours and that's why I _need you_ to help me pick out what clothes to bring!")

When he sees Bittle in the airport, the first thing Jack thinks is that Skype has not done justice to how gorgeously tan he's gotten. He pushes that aside, unwilling to waste his two days here staring in ways that would probably make Bittle uncomfortable and his family moreso. But when Bittle spots Jack, his face breaks out in a huge grin that chases absolutely everything else out of Jack's mind anyhow, and soon he's wrapped in a tight hug he doesn't want to end. He thinks maybe he himself underestimated how much he missed Bittle—and if he did, then there's no way Bittle has any idea.

He lets Bittle's chatter wash over him on the hour-plus drive to Madison, unable to stop smiling.

"What on earth are you grinning about, Mr. Zimmermann?"

Jack shakes his head. "I'm just really happy to be here. With you."

Bitty blushes, but he looks far more pleased than embarrassed so maybe that wasn't as weird a thing to say as Jack is suddenly worried it was.

Jack greets the Bittles, hugging Suzanne and shaking Coach's hand for the first time. Bittle had warned him that his family would be having a get-together that afternoon, so he's not surprised when Bitty immediately puts him to work slicing apples and pitting cherries for pies. Suzanne tuts about his being a guest, but Jack assures her that he's there to hang out with Bittle, so if Bittle is in the kitchen then that's where he wants to be, and he couldn't possibly sit around and watch them do all the work.

"I must say," Suzanne says, eyeing the pile of cherries that Jack has pitted with an efficiency he couldn't have dreamed of a year ago, "I did not take you for such an accomplished sous chef, Jack."

"Trust me, your son taught me everything I know," Jack says. "He has no qualms about enlisting whoever is nearby to help with his baking."

"I think that you are definitely the most improved baker in the Haus," Bitty says, smiling up at Jack.

It's not until Jack picks up another apple to slice that it occurs to him that, actually, he's rarely seen anyone else helping Bitty bake. Dex a few times, but the other guys, almost never. He's not sure if the other residents didn't want to help out, or if it's just that he hung out in the kitchen while Bitty baked more often and thus got conscripted more.

A couple of hours and four pies later, the guests start arriving. Jack is introduced around at "Dicky's friend Jack from up at school," and most of Bitty's relatives seem to politely not really care one way or the other about him, too busy chasing after small children or puffing up their chests to tell Bitty all about their/their husband's/their son's latest accomplishment.

Bitty listens politely, never once offering up his own stories about how his hockey team made it to the Frozen Four for the second year in a row. Jack is fairly certain that the tale will not go untold, though, as soon as Suzanne gets her turn.

Eventually, one of Bitty's uncles turns to Jack and asks, "Suzanne says you just graduated? You got a job lined up?"

"Um, yes, sir," Jack replies, hoping that the guy will leave it at that. Bitty beams up at him, proud like Jack is his own son to brag on, but doesn't say anything.

"Pay good? Enough to pay off a fancy private school like that?"

"Um, I was offered a hockey scholarship to play for Samwell, just like Eric, but yes, it pays well enough." Technically, it's true, he was offered one. His parents wouldn't hear of him accepting a scholarship that could go to a student with actual financial need, of course, but he doesn't really need to tell this guy that his parents are rich enough to pay for four years out of pocket without blinking.

Bitty hides his amused grin behind his glass of sweet tea, but his eyes are dancing with delight. It's almost enough to make Jack start laughing himself, but he's still hoping that if he doesn't offer any more information than necessary the guy will drop it.

"What'll you be doing?"

Jack sighs internally. "Um, playing hockey."

"Like, coaching?"

Bitty actually starts giggling, which makes his uncle frown.

"No, I'm going to be playing for the Providence Falconers this season."

The uncle's eyebrows shoot up, and he turns to Bitty, cuffing him on the shoulder.

"You couldn'ta led with that, Junior? 'Uncle Jimmy, this here's my friend Jack, who plays in the NHL?'"

Bitty shakes his head, laughing out loud now. "First off, Jack _is_ here as my friend from school and not as an NHL player. He's gonna be famous enough in a few months, he doesn't need me parading him around like a prize pig right now. And second, I'm sorry, Uncle Jimmy, but it was way more fun to watch this way."

Uncle Jimmy trades a few more good-natured chirps with Bitty, asks Jack a couple of routine questions about his team, then wanders off. By the time he's gone, Bitty has finished his tea and Jack has finished the bottle of water he'd been drinking.

"You want something else to drink? I can grab you something." Bitty asks, taking the empty bottle from Jack. "We've got beer, Coke, lemonade—well, I guess you saw what all we have."

"I'll just have a Coke," Jack says.

"What kind?"

Jack stares at Bitty for a moment. "Um… not diet?"

"Oh right, you mean actual Coca-Cola." Bitty shakes his head at himself. "Sorry, I get back down here and I forget how to talk like a Yankee."

"Your accent is so much better when you're down here," Jack says with a smirk.

Bitty raises an eyebrow. "Don't you mean it's so much worse?"

Jack shakes his head, grinning. "Absolutely not. I like it."

Bitty's cheeky smile turns shy as a light blush spreads over his cheeks. His eyes skitter away from Jack's, and he opens his mouth but can't seem to think of anything to say.

"I'll just…" He holds up the empty glass and bottle, then ducks his head and escapes.

Jack watches him go, trying not to stare at his ass. His biceps seem like a much more socially acceptable target, and are just as nice to look at. Bittle's shoulders have broadened in the past year, and the muscles in his arms have bulked up just a little and become even more defined.

By the time Bittle returns with new drinks, Jack has been roped into a conversation with a teenage cousin who Jack is pretty sure is trying to flirt with him in her clumsy, fourteen-year-old way. He's friendly, trying to toe the line between making her feel good about herself and giving her false hope (or coming off like some kind of perv to the adults nearby). Bitty hands him his Coke and listens to a minute or two of her hair-twirling monologue about her favorite band and how she's going to get to go backstage when she sees them this summer. Jack nods along, politely inserting interested noises as appropriate.

When she stops for a breath, Bitty cuts in. "I'm sorry, Makayla, but Jack is from Canada and he is just not used to this heat. Look at him—look at you, Jack. You look like you're about to overheat. I'm just gonna have him sit down inside for a minute. I think your mama was looking for you, anyhow."

Makayla looks mildly annoyed, but goes in search of her mother with only a small huff. As soon as she's gone, Bitty leans his forehead on Jack's shoulder, laughing.

"Oh my goodness, Jack, you are a real hero, putting up with that."

Jack shrugs his other shoulder, careful not to dislodge Bittle. "It was cute. She's a kid, what am I supposed to do, say 'Oh, I'm so sorry, but I really don't give a shit about One Direction, and I'm about a decade too old for you, so please shut up?'"

Bittle moves his head from against Jack's arm, so he can throw it back with laughter. "So Canadian. You can't even be hypothetically rude without being polite about it!"

Jack would come up with some kind of witty retort to the chirp, but he's too busy staring at Bittle. He's just so gorgeous, hair sun-bleached on top with the undercut freshly shaved, freckles splayed across his face, which is currently a picture of pure joy as he laughs. And Jack is so, so very much in love.

…

… _Oh_.

"Oh."

Bittle's laughter is dying down, and he looks up at Jack, eyebrows raised expectantly. "What?"

Jack's heart is racing, because everything, _everything_ makes so much sense now, but they're in the middle of a crowd of Bitty's family…

"Um. I, um. I'll tell you later. Not… here. When we're alone, maybe?"

"Well, that can be now," Bitty says. "You actually do look pretty hot, what say we get you on into the A/C for a bit?"

"Yes. Sure." Jack tries not to sound too eager, because _yes_ , the sooner he can get Bittle alone, the better. "Good idea."

He follows Bitty into the house, and at first, Bitty stops in the kitchen, leaning on a counter. Jack glances back toward the wide open back door, out onto the patio crawling with Bittles and Phelpses.

"Um… aloner?" It's not a word, but Jack's mind is far too busy slotting together the many puzzle pieces of his life that now fit perfectly to worry about things like _words_.

Bitty's eyebrows shoot up. "Okay. We can head up to my room for a minute if you want. Everything okay?"

'Yeah, great," Jack says sincerely. "I just… let's… yes, can we…"

Bitty peers at him closely, but sets his lemonade down on the counter and leads the way out of the kitchen.

A minute or two (and one climb up the stairs with Bitty right in front of him, during which Jack does not even _try_ not to stare at his ass) later, they're in Bitty's room and Bitty is closing his bedroom door and turning to look at Jack.

"What's goin' on?" Bitty's voice is soft and worried.

Jack opens his mouth, but he suddenly thinks that just blurting out _I'm in love with you_ might not be the best approach, even if he's _pretty sure_ Bitty has feelings for him, too. He's also not quite sure yet how to explain the specific levels of emotional constipation that led to it taking _months_ for him to identify his feelings. At any rate, Jack suddenly has no idea what to say and feels very stupid.

"Bitty," is all he manages.

Bitty steps closer, and Jack can't wait around for the right words to come to him so he just leans down and kisses him.

Bitty gasps, stiffening in surprise, but before Jack can worry that he's read this all wrong, he's wrapping his arms around Jack's neck and kissing back enthusiastically.

The kisses are gentle and sweet, starting out short and inquisitive but growing into slow, languid exploration.

Bitty pulls back first.

" _Jack_ ," he breathes, eyes wide in amazement.

"Sorry," Jack automatically apologizes. "I only just realized. That's my fault."

"Realized… that you wanted to kiss me?" The slight smile drops from Bitty's face. "Or—or that I—"

"No, no, I've known that I wanted you for a long time," Jack explains, not that he thinks it really clarifies much. "I only just realized that the reason I've been so upset about leaving you and why I miss you so much and it hurts so much more to be away from you than the others is that I'm in love with you."

"Oh." Bitty's eyes go wide again.

"I mean, I didn't just fall in love with you today." Jack knows he's babbling a little—he's still not sure how to explain any of this at all succinctly, but he feels like he owes Bitty _some_ kind of explanation. "I think—I think it was maybe around Christmas when my feelings… shifted? I knew I was attracted to you for a while before that, since like August, but I thought it was just physical. I mean, it was then, I guess? I mean, I cared about you, but as a friend, I don't think—"

"Jack." Jack shuts his mouth, a bit relieved. Bitty's hands touch his and his whole body relaxes immediately. "It's okay if you're not sure exactly when you felt what in the past year. We have all the time in the world to talk about it. What matters is, right now—you really feel that way? About me?"

"Yes." Jack smiles sheepishly. "Sorry I couldn't have had that revelation sometime when we're not surrounded by your extended family."

Bitty wraps his arms around Jack's middle. "You hush, Mr. Zimmermann. Could be worse, you coulda figured it out over Skype where you couldn't even kiss me."

Jack takes the obvious opening to kiss Bittle again, one hand sliding down his back, charting every muscle under that tank top, while the other curls into his soft, short-shaved hair.

"We should get back," Bitty murmurs against his lips after a few moments.

Jack nods, gives him one more quick peck. "Later."

"Oh, mister." Bitty's mouth curves into a mischievous grin. "You better believe later. People'll start clearing out in a couple more hours, and then I will find _some_ excuse to get us some time alone, don't you worry."

He kisses Jack one more time and then pulls away. Jack follows him back out into the hallway and down the stairs. Bittle doesn't even try to control the grin on his face, so neither does Jack—it probably wouldn't even occur to these people to suspect the real reason for it.


	3. Story 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't happen until April.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd originally planned to write and post these stories in chronological order throughout the year (so far all the ideas I have are during Bitty's junior year, I'm not sure I can keep them apart too much longer than that), but this one wanted to be written next even though it's set in April. I did, however, wind up working some backstory in that will be explored in another story (see if you can guess what), so at least some of these share continuity even if they're really separate universes. If that makes sense.
> 
> I believe I mentioned on Tumblr once that all my ideas for alternate getting-together stories (and yes, I was talking about the stories that will eventually comprise this collection) involve Bitty leaving some other guy for Jack in one form or another. IDK why, I just like that idea, and this is the first along those lines. I doubt there will ever be actual infidelity, but if I ever go in that direction I will tag and warn for it.
> 
> This started out as me having Rent stuck in my head and going "haha, SMH should go see Rent." I think the original version was more Rent-centric, but I've forgotten all those parts so now it's just sort of a plot device.

Jack drums his fingers against his steering wheel as he waits in the rush hour traffic. Because he's nervous. He's _so_ nervous.

He's probably too late.

Not because of traffic. Because he's an idiot. Because he's used up every possible excuse to put this off. Because he's either terrified of rejection or terrified of happiness, he's not sure which. Probably both, and this can only have one of those two outcomes.

It's terrible timing anyhow—in three days, he'll be starting his first ever NHL playoffs run with the Falconers. He should be focusing on _that_ , but until he deals with this he doesn't think he can.

He's spent the past six months hopelessly in love with his best friend—scratch that. He's spent well over a _year_ hopelessly in love with Bitty, but only the past six months painfully, acutely aware of it. And he's spent all that time convincing himself that he shouldn't pursue it, even as he's become more and more confident that Bitty feels the same way.

As they've gone from constant texts and regular Skypeing over the summer to constant texts and near-daily Skypeing or phone calls. As Bitty's been coming down to Providence more and more often, even as their schedules get more and more hectic. Even as he watched Bitty date—and break up with—his first real boyfriend, Paul.

Jack has been happy—honestly, truly happy—that Bitty has expanded his social circle this year. He joined a campus LGBT group and has been hanging out with people from there when he's not busy with hockey (or visiting Jack). He met Paul there, and while Jack wasn't thrilled about that he also wasn't going to begrudge Bitty the opportunity to date while Jack was too chickenshit to say anything. Paul had been nice and (by Bitty's own admission) a little boring, and they were together for not quite three months before they kind of mutually decided that it wasn't going anywhere. They're still friends, and Jack tries his hardest not to be jealous of that.

After he and Paul broke up was when Bitty started coming down to Providence far more than would be expected for just a friend. They've been cooking and baking together, buying new things for Jack's apartment (Jack's kitchen) together, watching Netflix curled on the couch together. And then Bitty goes and sleeps in Jack's guest room, because neither of them has been willing to admit that their quiet domesticity is exactly what it looks like.

Until now.

Jack is going to tell Bitty everything, put his heart on the line for him to crush or cherish. He'll either be bringing his boyfriend back to Providence tonight, or coming home more alone than ever.

If he can just make it to Samwell through this damn traffic.

Finally, _finally_ he pulls up to the Haus, a half an hour later than he'd hoped to. But it's still plenty early; it's unlikely that Bitty is off at any party or anything yet.

Of course, Jack could have just called to let him know he was coming, but that would ruin the surprise. And surprises are romantic, right?

He can hear singing as he goes up the porch steps, and when he makes it to the door he doesn't even manage to knock before it's flung open by Holster.

" _-IN AMERICA, AT THE END OF THE MILLEN—_ whoa!" Holster stops short just before running right into Jack. "Heyyyyy! What's our favorite NHL star doing here? Shouldn't you be getting ready for playoffs, bro?"

Holster pulls him inside, where Lardo immediately latches onto him.

"Hey, guys," he says, returning Lardo's hug. "I, uh, I actually wanted to talk to Bittle, is he around?"

"Yeah, we're actually all just headed out the door— _BITS!_ " Jack cringes as Holster shouts in the general direction of the stairs.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'!"

Jack hears footsteps on the stairs just before he sees Bitty. Bitty is dressed nicely, a button-down and khakis, and his hair looks like it has some product in it. His face lights up when he sees Jack.

"Jack! What are you doin' here?" He dashes up and takes up the place Lardo has recently vacated hugging Jack's chest.

"I actually came to talk to you," Jack says quietly. "Can we maybe go up to your room for a bit?"

Bitty looks up at him. "Oh, honey, we gotta get going. But you should come with us!"

"Where are you going?"

Apparently in answer, Holster, who has just hiked Lardo up onto his shoulders at the bottom of the porch steps, yells " _WE'RE NOT GONNA PAY—"_

Lardo joins him in screaming " _—LAST YEAR'S RENT! THIS YEAR'S RENT!"_

"This may shock you," Bitty says, shaking his head as he watches the other two out the front door, "but we're on our way to see _Rent_. Samwell Pride is sponsoring the production, so I know a couple people in it, and Ford—our new manager? You still gotta meet her!—she's stage managing. C'mon, it's on the other side of campus, we've got time for a chat while we walk over there."

Before Jack can say that it's really more of a talk to have in private, he's being pulled out the door and down the porch steps. Once they catch up with Holster and Lardo, Bitty sings along with them for a verse or two (something about going out tonight?), then he bumps Jack with his shoulder.

"I'm guessing you've never listened to _Rent_?"

Jack shakes his head. "Not exactly big on musicals."

"Me neither, honestly, but it's good. I'm sure you'll like it. And it's super gay, so that's a plus. Anyhow, what's up?"

Jack shoves his hands in his pockets and chews on his lip. This isn't at all what he'd planned, and his heart is hammering. But it's not panic. He doesn't feel short of breath or dizzy. It's just the knowledge that this is possibly one of the most important conversations of his life, and it's going to be held walking along the river with their friends screaming song lyrics fifteen feet ahead of them.

Suddenly, that feels weirdly appropriate.

"I wanted to give you a heads up," he says. He's practiced a few versions of this, and he can't bring himself to go with the most direct version right now. He's still a little bit chickenshit, after all. "I've been talking to the Falcs management and a few of my teammates about this, but so far nobody outside the team knows. I wanted to tell you first."

Bitty stops dead. His face is white. "Oh god, Jack, are you being traded?"

"No, no! It's nothing bad," he rushes to reassure Bitty, feeling like an idiot for making him think that for even a second.

Bitty sighs and starts walking again. "Lord, don't scare me like that! So what is it?"

"Well, it's not definite yet, but this summer, during the off season… I've been talking to them about coming out. Publicly. As—as bi."

Bitty stops again, pressing a hand to his chest. This time, he doesn't look terrified—he looks amazed. His wide eyes seem to sparkle as they stare up at Jack… or maybe Jack's just getting overly romantic.

"You're—seriously? Wow. Oh, gosh, Jack, wow. That's—oh my goodness, Jack, that's wonderful! Thank you so much for telling me. It means a lot to me that you'd tell me something like that first."

They start walking again, Bitty still looking a little dazed. "Why now, though?" he finally asks. "That's a huge risk for only having one season under your belt."

Jack takes a deep breath. It's a perfect opening.

"Because I'm in love." Bitty doesn't stop again, but Jack hears a hitch in his breath. Jack can't look at him, just keeps walking with his hands in his pockets. "I'm in love with a man, and I'm sick of hiding. I've never told anyone that part, not even him. I've been in love with him for months and I've never told him how I feel because he deserves so much better than a relationship we'd have to keep hidden. I'm not worth that."

"You're worth so much, Jack," Bitty breaks in quietly. Jack finally glances at him, but he's not looking at Jack. He's got his arms crossed, folded in on himself, staring at his feet as he walks. "If he doesn't know that, he's not worth your time."

"I have no idea how he feels about me," Jack continues. "I have hopes, but… I don't know for sure. I don't know if I've waited too long and missed my chance. I've watched him date other guys and tried so hard to be happy for him, wishing I weren't such a coward. But for him, I want to be brave. He deserves the world."

"Sounds like he's a lucky guy," Bitty says, still quiet, still not looking at Jack. He can't possibly believe Jack is talking about anyone other than him, can he? "It also sounds like maybe you should have told him all that and let him make his own decisions."

"I know. I regret not doing that months ago, but I think I was just too scared that he wouldn't choose me. So, anyhow, if he wants to be with me, obviously it would affect him, too, so I'm not making definite plans yet. But if he's okay with it, if he wants me to, the Falconers have my back if I make a statement this summer. And I wanted you to know that."

Bitty walks on quietly for a moment, chewing his lip.

"Shouldn't he be the first person you tell about this?" he finally asks, looking up at Jack from the corner of his eye.

"Yes," Jack says simply.

Bitty finally stops. He takes a deep breath as Jack stops, too.

"Please, Jack," he says, eyes wide, hands trying not to reach out and touch. " _Please_ just say it."

"I love you."

The words are barely out of his mouth before he's got the wind knocked out of him from Bitty flinging himself at him. Bitty throws his arms around Jack's neck and Jack holds onto him as tight as he can. He'll never let go, not now.

"I cannot believe you," Bitty says, his voice muffled by the fact that his face is buried in Jack's neck. Jack can almost feel the words more than hear them. "Jack Zimmermann, do not scare me like that."

"Bits," he says, his own voice muffled by Bitty's hair, "how could I possibly mean anyone else? Hell, when would I have time to fall for someone else, with you at my house twice a week?"

Bitty laughs; Jack can feel it where their chests are pressed together and it feels so good. It balances out the fact that Jack's neck is wet with Bitty's tears. Bitty finally pulls back, wiping at his eyes.

"I can't believe you did this out in public in broad daylight, where I can't even kiss you properly for it."

"Excuse me, that was _not_ part of my plan. I'm pretty sure I asked you if we could go talk in your room."

Bitty laughs and smacks him on the arm, but then he lays his head on Jack's chest and Jack is wrapping him in his arms again.

"Jack," Bitty says quietly, craning his head a little to look up at him. "You shouldn't come out for me. If it's really what _you_ want, then I'll support you all the way, but it's gotta be for you, not me."

"I don't want to make you hide."

"There's a great big gap the size of the Grand Canyon between hiding away deep in the closet and literally having a relationship that gets talked about on national television. We can talk about where we want to fall on that scale, but I will be adamant about this, Jack—even if I'm part of the equation, you gotta do this for you, when you're ready to do it for you."

Jack nods. "Just getting to talk about it with you is more than I thought I'd ever get."

"Me, too," Bitty says into his chest.

"So, I guess our first date will be seeing a musical?"

Bitty springs away from him so quickly, Jack worries he's done something wrong.

"Oh, shit! Shit shit shit! Oh no, I'm a terrible person."

"What? What's wrong?" Jack puts his hands on Bitty's shoulders, and Bitty relaxes immediately, though his face is still tense with worry.

"I, um. Oh, lord." Bitty covers his face. "I actually _was_ going to meet this guy, Kevin, there and this was actually going to be a date? With him? Oh my goodness, this is such a dick move, I can't believe I'm about to do this. Cancel a date ten minutes beforehand, and I'm still going to see the show, just with someone else? Who does that? I guess I do."

Jack can only stare at him for a moment. Bitty is canceling a date with another guy to be with him. That probably shouldn't turn him on, but he's pretty sure he's got a possessive streak that's only just breaking the surface.

"Can you go see it tomorrow?" he finally asks. "I know you want to support Ford, but, uh. Under the circumstances, maybe it would be best if we went with my original plan, which was to ask you to come back to Providence with me for the night."

Bitty bites his lip, but he finally can't hold back a radiant grin. "That sounds wonderful." He sighs. "But first I gotta be a jerk."

He pulls out his phone and hits a number to dial. "Hey, um… I know this is awful of me, and I'm so sorry, I totally understand if you think I'm a total asshole, but I'm not gonna make it tonight. Yeah, I know, sorry. Um, no. I don't think we should reschedule. Sorry, just… I've got some unexpected things happening in my life and I don't think it's a good time… No, it's fine, nothing bad… Okay, yeah. Bye."

"I cannot believe I just did that," he says, staring at the phone after he's hung up. "I am such an asshole."

"You can blame me and my terrible timing," Jack tells him.

By this point, the two-headed Holster-and-Lardo monster has realized that they lost Jack and Bitty somewhere along the way and is on its way back, singing as loudly as ever.

"What's the hold up?" Holster asks as soon as they're within shouting range. "We got fifteen minutes before it starts!"

"Oh, um, y'all better go on without me," Bitty says. "I'll see it tomorrow night. I'm—I'm gonna head out with Jack. He was thinkin' we could hang out at his place tonight."

Both Lardo and Holster glance suspiciously between the two of them.

"Bits," Lardo says, "what about Kevin? You seemed pretty psyched when he asked you out."

Bitty bites his lip and glances at Jack, who decides to put him out of his misery. He slides his arm around Bitty's waist, and Bitty immediately relaxes into his side. Like it's where he's always belonged.

"He's had a better offer," Jack tells them.

Both of their eyes get big for a second before they're whooping and hollering and fist-pumping. They get close enough for Holster to take one hand off Lardo's legs and use it to muss up first Jack's and then Bitty's hair, while Lardo scream-sings " _GIVE IN TO LOVE, OR LIIIIIVE IN FEAR!_ " while drumming on Holster's head. Bitty buries his face in Jack's chest, but the only thing that outshines his smile is Jack's.

"Okay, okay!" Bitty finally yelps. "You two get going, you're gonna miss the start of the show."

Finally, Holster and Lardo are headed back toward the theater, while Bitty and Jack turn around and start out for the Haus. They're not holding hands, but their arms are pressed together tightly enough that they probably might as well be.

They chat a little about what they should get for dinner on the way back to Jack's place (Bitty had a Hot Pocket earlier and was going to call it good until after the show, but he's actually pretty hungry), until they turn onto the Haus's block. Then Bitty shoves Jack with his shoulder.

"I still can't believe you did this out in public. I wouldn't have told you to come with us if I'd had any idea. You should've stopped me, and we'd be making out by now!"

Jack laughs and throws an arm around Bitty's shoulders, trying to make it look more like bro-y horseplay than boyfriendly affection.

"I guess it's probably good that I didn't go with my original idea to bring a ring with me," he says.

Bitty freezes, and Jack bites his lip. He's probably gone too far; he just got Bitty and now he's going to scare him off. He lets his arm slide off of Bitty's shoulders.

"I'm joking, Bits," he says. But then, he can't lie, either. "I mean, mostly. I wasn't seriously thinking about that. It was just, y'know, an idle thought I had. I didn't _buy_ a ring or anything—"

He's interrupted by Bitty beating him on the arm. "Jack! Laurent! Zimmermann! No! You are not allowed to do that! That is crazy talk, that is _insane_ , we have been dating for all of _five minutes_ and if you asked me to marry you I would be absolutely helpless to say anything but yes, which is _absolutely insane_ and you _know it_ so help me God you had better not ask—"

"You'd say yes?" Jack may be cringing away from Bitty's assault, but he can't stop smiling. Bitty stops hitting him to sigh loudly, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Of course I would say yes, you idiot! Which is why you are not allowed to ask me! Honestly, Jack, what do you think this _is_ , we are not starting some kind of _fling_ here." He looks up at Jack, his eyes wide and earnest and Jack knows that he is not joking at all right now. "This is _you and me_."

"I know," Jack says, and reaches up to touch his face. "And I need to get you inside _right now_."

A grin spreads across Bitty's face.

"Race ya!"

Before Jack's even processed what he said, Bitty is off and halfway to the Haus. Bitty may be faster than Jack on the ice, even after most of a season in the NHL, but Jack's legs still have a several-inch advantage and he manages to catch up with him at the top of the porch steps. He crashes into Bitty, pinning him to the door, and Bitty's yelp is almost lost in their laughter.

Bitty can barely get his key in the lock, but as soon as he does Jack is pushing the door open and they're tumbling through. Jack kicks the door closed as he backs Bitty up against the wall, and the finally, _finally_ they're kissing.

It's everything Jack ever imagined, Bitty's lips warm and soft, the skin on his lower back smooth where Jack's slid his hand up under his shirt. Jack pulls him close and is rewarded with Bitty's fingers tangling in his hair.

They're caught up enough in each other that they don't hear the approaching footsteps, and don't realize they have an audience until someone yelps, "Holy crap!"

"Whoa," someone else says, while a third voice adds, "It's about fucking time."

They finally pull apart enough to look over and see Ransom, Nursey, and Chowder watching them from near the stairs.

"Uh, hi," Jack says, breathless from the combination of running, laughing, and kissing.

"Bitty, aren't you supposed to be on a date with Kevin?" Chowder asks, his voice high with disbelief. "Who is not Jack?"

"I canceled," Bitty says, breathing just as hard as Jack. "Obviously. I guess I'll see the show with you all tomorrow."

"And this—" Ransom motions between the two of them. "—This is new, right?"

Jack furrows his brow. "Um, yeah?"

Ransom shakes his head. "What the hell took you two so long? I swear, I literally thought you guys were dating like _weeks_ ago, with how much Bitty's been going down to visit you. I figured you were just keeping on the DL for now, so I didn't say anything. Then suddenly, he's talking about going on some date with some other guy? And I thought maybe you guys broke up, but he didn't seem sad about it or anything? And I didn't think he'd cheat on you, so I was just hella confused, bro. By the way, making out in the entryway is definitely a fine."

"Well, we're together now," Bitty says with an eyeroll, "and I will pay your fine _later_ , right now I need to get my things together to head to Providence."

"Oh my god," Chowder says, as though he's just processed all this. "Jack and Bitty are dating! That's so swawesome! I'm so happy for you guys!"

He manages to grab them and hug them both as they make their way to the stairs, and when Ransom shouts "Group hug!" he and Nursey join in.

"Okay, okay, get off!" Bitty says, shoving at their friends but also laughing again. He and Jack are both still laughing when he stops halfway up the stairs and hangs over the railing, pointing at the three down below him. "And, hey! I need you guys to help me out. If this one asks for your help with any kind of crazy romantic plan that involves any sort of _proposal_ before we've been dating for a good _year_ , you are to tell me _immediately_ and do whatever you can to stop him. I've already told him what's what, but I do not trust him for one second not to try something."

Jack is laughing too hard to add anything, his forehead leaning on Bitty's back.

"Chill," Nursey says, looking amused. "We got your back, Bits. Is he allowed to plan other stupidly romantic surprises?"

" _Yes_ ," Jack says, then pokes Bitty in the side for good measure. "The answer is yes, Bittle."

Bitty gives his best put-upon sigh. "Fine. If he must. I will allow him to be an amazing boyfriend if he insists."

"You guys are gross," Ransom says, grinning. "We're gonna make bank in fines."

They finally make it up the stairs and into Bitty's room, where they have to (they _have to_ ) make out a little more before Bitty can pack.

"I can't believe you had a date with someone else and didn't even tell me," Jack murmurs into Bitty's skin as he presses Bitty down onto the bed.

"Sweetheart," Bitty says, stroking a hand from Jack's head down his back, "I may have been making a token effort to move on and date other people, but that doesn't mean I wanted to discourage you." Jack looks up. "I have been in love with you for so long, Jack Zimmermann. And I was finally starting to wonder if maybe, _maybe_ by some miracle you felt the same way. I couldn't quite let myself believe it until I heard you say the words, but that doesn't mean I was gonna risk scaring you off unless there was someone I actually wanted to get serious with. And honestly? I don't think I could really get serious with anyone else while I'm still in love with you. I figured that out when I was with Paul."

Jack can't do anything but kiss him, long and deep.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," he murmurs into Bitty's mouth. "I should have been telling you how much I love you every day for months now."

"But we got here," Bitty says as Jack kisses his way down his throat. "And who knows, maybe this is just exactly how it needed to happen."


	4. Story 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It starts as a drunken hookup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: There are no consent issues re: drunken sex in this. They don't go that far while they're inebriated.

Jack sees Bittle first, because Bittle, of course, has his eyes pointed down at his phone. Jack takes the opportunity to let his own eyes travel down Bittle's body, telling himself this is the only time he'll indulge himself this weekend.

Summer looks so good on him. Tan, freckled, toned arms and calves on display (sadly, he's not wearing his shortest shorts).

Jack has kept to his resolution to actively stay in touch this summer. They text constantly, and talk on the phone or Skype at least a couple of times a week. He thinks maybe it's working—when Bittle started talking about looking at airline tickets for his trip back and Jack suggested he come up a couple days early to hang out and see Providence, he didn't even seem that surprised. Jack still hasn't quite figured out how to _tell_ Bittle what he means to Jack, but if he's gone from thinking he'll only see Jack on TV to not being surprised at being asked to spend a weekend at his place, maybe Jack's done an all right job of showing him.

Now, Bittle finally looks up, and the way his face lights up when he sees Jack makes Jack's own face do the same. As soon as he's within reach, Jack pulls him into a hug. Not a cheesy, one-armed, no-homo bro hug—a real fucking hug, because Jack's not sure he even realized _just_ how much he missed Bitty.

Bitty hugs him back just as tightly.

"Oh my lord, Jack! It's so good to see you!"

"I missed you," Jack murmurs into his hair. The confession suddenly makes the moment feel… too intimate. Not too intimate to share with Bittle, but too intimate to share in public. So he gives Bitty one more pat on the back and pulls back. "Let's get your bags."

Unsurprisingly, Bitty chatters away the entire time they're waiting for his bags and walking back to Jack's car. Jack is happy to just watch and listen to him (his accent is always great when he gets back from Georgia), interjecting every now and then when a response is expected of him. Once he's driving, Jack can't look at him as much, so instead he talks more, chirping Bittle from the moment he plugs his phone into the aux cable.

It's one o'clock and Bitty hasn't eaten since this morning, so before they even get to Jack's apartment they stop to eat lunch at a nearby cafe Jack's been to a couple of times.

" _Well_ ," Bitty huffs as he sips his overly-sugary-coffee-thing, "it's no Annie's, but I suppose it'll do."

Jack kicks him under the table and is rewarded with a huge grin.

Once they finally make it to Jack's, he gives Bittle a tour and drops his bag in the guest bedroom. Bittle, of course, is immediately drawn to the kitchen. He opens the refrigerator and gasps.

"Look at all that butter!" Jack grins as Bittle rushes to the door Jack pointed out as the pantry. "And flour and sugar and—Jack, you are the best friend a boy could ask for, and obviously you need to be rewarded with a pie immediately."

They spend the afternoon baking, and it might be the best time Jack has had in his new apartment. Shitty has come to visit a few times, sometimes with Lardo and sometimes without, but Jack thinks maybe he was never away from Shitty long enough to _really_ miss him, not like he's missed Bitty. So as mundane as this is, it feels special.

They go to the market down the street to get things to cook dinner, and all told they wind up spending most of the time from 2-8PM in Jack's kitchen. Jack is just finishing up the dishes when he hears a "Wow" from behind him, where Bitty is exploring the few cabinets he didn't already thoroughly paw through while cooking. Jack puts the last plate on the drying rack, turns off the water, and turns to see which cabinet Bitty is standing in front of, eyeing the contents with a smirk.

"Haha, yeah," Jack says as he comes over to stand by Bittle. "My mom insisted on all that, she kept talking about needing to have a well-stocked liquor cabinet for entertaining. Not sure who she thinks I'll be entertaining besides you guys, and you'd all be happy with cheap beer."

"I'm not sure _happy_ with cheap beer is the word," Bitty says as he moves bottles around to see what's at the back. "More like we'll settle for it. I would definitely take most of this stuff over Natty Light any day."

"Well, if you want a drink, you can have your pick."

"It's nice that your parents are okay with this," Bitty says, holding up a bottle to read the label. "I could see them getting overprotective about that sort of thing. I mean, they're parents, y'know?"

This is why Bitty is one of the few people—well, the only person besides Shitty—with whom Jack is completely comfortable talking about his overdose. He treats it like a thing that happened, not like _The Thing That Happened_. He doesn't bring it up inappropriately or for no reason, but he also doesn't tiptoe around the topic, and when it does come up he's matter-of-fact about it. He doesn't judge or pity.

Jack shrugs. "I'm so different now, y'know? Back then I was a stupid, unsupervised teenager. And they know that alcohol wasn't the main problem. I mean, it was a problem, I was definitely partying too much, but I was never _addicted_ to it. They were kind of skittish about it that first year, but after a few months they could see that I could drink a beer now and then and not want more."

Bitty nods as he pulls out a bottle of Cointreau. "Ooh, I should bake something with this tomorrow. That's so good that they trust you. And it's not like you really ever drank at parties at all at Samwell; somehow I'm guessing Shitty made sure they knew that." Jack snorts, but it's true. Shitty likes to make sure that his parents know he's doing well mentally and emotionally, and he has definitely casually dropped Jack's lack of partying into a conversation once or twice. Bitty glances up at him with a smirk. "Although I'm also guessing he did _not_ tell them how you let _us_ get you drunk now and then."

Jack laughs and hip-checks Bitty gently. "No, although I don't think they'd mind knowing that. Well, maybe if it had happened my freshman year, but not now. Getting trashed at parties is different from drinking with a few close friends that you trust. I knew you guys had my back if anything got out of control."

"Of course we do," Bitty says, smiling as he pulls out another bottle. Jack smiles, too, at his use of the present tense. "Wait, this is Jim Beam? I've never seen it in a bottle this shape. Distiller's Masterpiece, huh?"

"Oh, yeah, they put it in a fancy bottle because it costs like ten times the price of the regular one," Jack says, and laughs as he takes it from Bitty. "I'm probably supposed to save it for when I have my bosses over for dinner. You want some?"

Bitty grins, his eyes shining in delight. "We get to drink the expensive stuff? Hell yes I want some. Oh, wait! Will you kill me if I use your ridiculously-priced bourbon for goofy cocktails?"

"I would _love it_ if you used my ridiculously-priced bourbon for goofy cocktails," Jack says. Bitty reaches back into the cabinet, shuffles the bottles a bit, and pulls out some butterscotch schnapps (Jack's mother made sure he had a truly dizzying variety of flavored liqueurs).

"Let's run back to that market, did you see they had a display toward the front with some local apple cider?"

Jack raises an eyebrow. "No, I didn't notice. What are you making?"

"Apple pie cocktails, of course!" Bitty sets both bottles down on the island, looking incredibly pleased with himself, and Jack is pretty sure he wouldn't be able to deny him anything right then.

So they go back to the market and soon they're back at Jack's with a half gallon of apple cider along with some cinnamon sticks Bitty picked up in the baking aisle.

Bitty puts some of the cider in a small pot with the cinnamon and gets it warming on the stove.

"Isn't it a little hot out for that?" Jack asks.

"You hush, the air conditioning is fine in here," Bitty says, giving him a little shove. "We are having _warm_ apple pie, mister."

Jack leans on the counter next to the stove while Bitty stirs the cider. He watches Bitty while Bitty watches the pot.

"You know what I'm in the mood for right now?" he asks.

"I hope it's apple cider with very expensive alcohol, or we might have a problem," Bitty says.

Jack laughs. "Your Food Network drinking games," he says. "I miss hearing you yell drunkenly at the cooking shows."

Bitty smacks him on the arm, but his grin betrays how pleased he is. "Only if you promise to yell drunkenly with me."

So that's how they find themselves, three episodes of Cutthroat Kitchen later, drunker than Jack has been in months. Nowhere near blackout drunk, but a good ways past tipsy.

Jack insists they switch to water so they don't wind up with massive hangovers the next day, and they wind up talking instead of turning the show back on. Soon Bitty is slumped into his side, sipping his water and holding forth about his hopes and worries for the upcoming school year.

"But I'll tell you one thing, this is the year I am getting a damn boyfriend. I don't care how low my standards have to be—no, that's a lie, that's a lie. Anyone who barfs on my shoes is right out."

"So, wait, have you not had a boyfriend at all? Ever?"

"Nope." Bitty pops the "p", then sighs.

"Really?" Jack probably shouldn't be _so_ surprised—probably wouldn't be if he were sober—but he can't quite wrap his head around how Bitty, of all people—sexy, cheerful, beautiful, talented, incredible _Bitty_ —could not have guys beating down his door.

"You wanna know a secret?"

"I would love to know a secret."

"I mean, it's not really a _secret_. I doubt I've _told_ anyone before, but I haven't, like, _lied_ about it before. I'm sure everyone assumes anyhow, given the lack of boyfriends and all, so I doubt I even _have_ to tell anyone, actually, it's probably kind of silly to tell you, because you'll probably just be like, _well duh_ —"

"Was any of that the secret?" By now, Jack's leaning his head on Bittle's head, which is on his shoulder. It's so comfy.

"No. I don't think so. Wait. Was any of that about how I'm a virgin?"

Jack snorts in laughter, but rushes to explain when Bitty lifts his head. "No, no, I'm not laughing at you for that. I'm laughing at you because absolutely nothing you said before that had anything to do with virginity whatsoever. Anyhow, you know what Shitty would say."

Bitty huffs and crosses his arms. He doesn't return his head to Jack's shoulder, which makes Jack sad.

"I realize that virginity is a social construct or whatever and it's based on hetero… normative… whatever, but that doesn't change the fact that no guy has ever touched my dick and that kind of sucks." Jack's brain immediately goes _all sorts of_ unhelpful places. "Hell, the only times I've _kissed_ a guy have been a couple drunk makeouts at parties—the one time a guy tried to kiss me sober, I chickened out! Who does that? And like, I dunno, maybe one'a those guys would have gone further, but I don't really want my first time to be with some rando at a kegster. 'Sides, probably soon as we got somewhere with a light on they'd'a changed their minds."

" _What?_ " Jack's been slouched down in his seat, but he sits up fully. "No, Bits you're so hot. Like, seriously, you're… just _so fucking hot_."

Bitty's a little flushed from the alcohol, but Jack can see his cheeks pinken anyhow as he rolls his eyes. "That's awful sweet of you, Jack, but forgive me if I don't quite trust the judgment of a straight boy on this topic."

Jack frowns, confused. "Really? You overheard all that shit with Kent and you still think I'm straight?"

Bitty's eyes go wide, but he doesn't turn to look at Jack, instead watching himself pick at the hem of his shorts. "Um. I mean. I guess I wondered, but I figured that was wishful—I mean, I didn't want to make assumptions. I wasn't totally sober that night, I—I might have misheard."

Jack turns his whole body to face Bittle, his knee coming up on the couch and pressing against Bittle's leg.

"I'm definitely not straight, so trust me. You're really fucking hot. I mean, the only reason I never hit on you or tried to hook up with you was because we were teammates. I was your captain."

Bitty finally looks at him, but warily. "If you're just sayin' that to make me feel better, you need to tell me. I'm serious now."

Jack rolls his eyes. "I mean, I guess that's why I told you _now_ , 'cause you needed to hear it, but it's still _true_. You have no idea how much I want you."

"Oh." Bitty just sits there, blinking at him for a minute. The smart part of Jack's brain, the part with the inhibition, finally catches up with the drunk part of his brain that insisted he needed to say all this to cheer up his friend, and he feels his cheeks heat as he realizes exactly how _much_ he just said. He did not stop at "I'm not straight and you're attractive" like he'd originally intended, did he?

"Shit." Jack runs a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, Bittle, that was stupid. I wasn't thinking, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No!" Bitty says, before Jack can get up and retreat to his room in shame. "That's not—it's just…" He leans in toward Jack, and suddenly his hand is sliding onto Jack's knee, then up to his thigh. Jack tries to ignore how good it feels, how badly he wants Bitty's hands all over him, but he's breathing a little heavier nonetheless. Bitty looks him square in the eyes, and Jack finds himself leaning in unconsciously. "We're not teammates anymore, Jack."

It takes a second for the implications to hit Jack.

"Oh." He licks his lips, and when Bitty's eyes track the movement Jack can see the raw _want_ in them.

Jack leans in further, tense, not sure he's doing the right thing—but Bitty meets him halfway. Relief floods him at the first press of Bitty's lips to his, but as they adjust the angle of the kiss and Bitty's hands come up to grab his hair, he loses track of anything except every point of contact between their two bodies.

Bitty hums as their kiss deepens, and the sound makes Jack smile into the kiss. Once Jack is smiling, Bitty is, too, then giggling, and within a few seconds they're barely kissing at all, just holding each other and nuzzling and giggling and dear god, Jack is _so happy_. Maybe he's never been this happy in his life. He's not sure he can contain it, what's bubbling in his chest.

He starts to press Bitty down, onto the couch beneath him, and Bitty goes more than willingly. They're kissing again; at first it's still interspersed with smiles and laughs, but once they're horizontal it doesn't take long at all for things to grow more heated. Bitty tastes like apples and the rum they finished off the night with.

As he moves down to lick and nip at Bitty's jaw, Jack's heart is still incredibly light. Sure, he's getting kind of horny, but that's hardly even the point here. He's _making out with Bitty_. That's just… amazing. How had it not occurred to him to even try for this?

Bitty's hands slide up under his shirt, and the sound he makes at the feel of skin-on-skin might be more of a whimper than a moan, but he's not embarrassed because it's Bitty. Jack's okay with being vulnerable around him, with showing him things that nobody else—not even Shitty—gets to see.

Because… _Oh_.

He slides his own hands up under Bitty's shirt, moaning in earnest. Bitty's back arches underneath him, and for a moment Jack is distracted from the revelations happening in his brain because it's the hottest thing he's ever seen. He sits up and pulls off his own shirt, but rather than wait for Bitty to take his off he just rucks it all the way up as he presses down into him so he can get their skin touching as quickly as possible.

Bitty giggles again.

"Jack, Jack, Jack!" He's half-pushing, half-smacking at Jack's shoulders. "Gimme a little room, I can't get my shirt off like this!"

Jack sighs heavily, put-upon, and sits back up so that Bitty can wiggle out of his tank top. Once they're both shirtless, as if by mutual agreement they both stop and just… stare. Let their eyes travel over the other's body, soaking up the fact that they're _allowed_. God only knows how much energy they've both put into not looking too hard or for too long in the locker room, at the Haus… and now they can look all they want.

Bitty's lips are swollen and pink, his hair tousled. His summer tan only enhances the definition of every muscle, and Jack gets lost in the way his chest is still heaving. His arms are still raised over his head where he was pulling off his shirt, completing the debauched look. He looks like someone who is in the middle of being ravaged, and Jack needs to finish the job.

But before he can do that, Bitty's hand comes up, and his fingertips trace lightly down Jack's chest, leaving goosebumps in their wake. There's desire in his eyes, but so much tenderness in his touch that it makes Jack's brain jump tracks entirely. He opens his mouth, but all the things he suddenly wants to say get jammed up together in his throat.

Which is probably for the best, because none of it is anything he should say while drunk. He finally grabs Bitty's hand and kisses his palm, then finds himself being dragged back down into another kiss.

He lets it go on for several more minutes, but he's already hard and doesn't want to let it get to the point of frustration. He finally pulls back, and they're both panting.

"We're drunk," he says. " _You're_ drunk."

"Jack, I hope you're not implying that I'm not two hundred percent sure of what I want, because I have wanted this for _so_ damn long." Bitty stares up at him earnestly, and no, Jack doesn't doubt his sincerity.

"Me, too," Jack says gently, running a hand through Bitty's hair. "But you've still only ever kissed anyone while drunk. Your first time shouldn't be drunk, too. It'll be so much better in the morning, trust me."

There are other things, too, that Jack needs to let rest until morning. He understands now, what it is he really wants, but he needs to re-examine it in the light of day—the _sober_ light of day—no matter how sure he is now (which is very). It's not something they can talk about drunk, anyhow.

"You promise?" Bitty asks quietly, his eyes focused on Jack's mouth. He's only pouting a little. "In the morning?"

Jack smiles. "Trust me."

Bitty sighs as Jack gets up. "You're so responsible."

Jack rolls his eyes as he heads to the kitchen to get glasses of water.

"I'm not responsible, I just know that sober sex is better than drunk sex," he calls back as he pulls out the glasses. "Drunk sex just seems good when you're drunk."

"We could do both!" Bitty yells from where he's still lying on the couch.

Jack comes back in and hands Bitty a glass of water. "Drink all of that. The last thing we need is hangovers slowing us down."

Bitty is clearly pouting now as he sits up, but he drinks the water.

Jack finishes his first. He stares down into the glass like there's something fascinating at the bottom, trying to ignore the blush warming his cheeks as he asks, "Do you… want to sleep in my room tonight?"

He has no idea why he feels shy about it, but it's just… it's not sex, and all they've really _talked about_ so far is sex.

"Yeah."

He glances over to see Bitty grinning goofily into his own nearly-empty water glass.

"Finish up and let's get to sleep, eh?"

—

When Jack wakes up, he can feel Bitty's warmth just inches away from him. He rolls over and opens his eyes, and a grin spreads across his face as his heart squeezes in his chest.

Bitty's still asleep. He's on his back, one arm thrown above his head, his face turned toward Jack. He's the most beautiful thing Jack has ever seen, made more so by the fact that it's Jack's bed that he's in.

Jack is overwhelmed, suddenly, by the enormity of what he feels for him. By what he wants from this. Maybe that's why it took him so long to identify it—it's just so big, so _much_ that it was easier for his brain to skirt around it, to only look at it from the periphery instead of facing it head-on. It took a drunken kiss to tear down that wall.

He slips out of bed as quietly as he can and heads to his bathroom. As he pees and brushes his teeth it hits him, the power Bitty has over him right now. He could break Jack's heart, absolutely crush it, if he really is only looking for sex. If all he feels for Jack is physical attraction.

Jack spits the toothpaste out and stares into his sink for a moment. He should be terrified by that possibility. Hell, the idea of rejection _now_ , rejection by _Bitty_ , should have him on the verge of a panic attack.

The truth is, though, he's not scared because he doesn't think that will happen. For someone who didn't even realize his own feelings until last night, he's surprisingly confident that Bitty returns at least some of them. Maybe he's not as—well, 110% about it, as Jack is, but that's more of a comment on Jack than on Bitty's feelings for him. He's confident that Bitty feels _something_ for him, enough that he'll want at least some of the same things Jack does.

Jack slips back into the bed, curling up close to Bitty. He lets himself stare for a few more minutes, but he starts to get antsy with the need to touch.

He slides an arm around Bitty's waist, snuggling himself right up against Bitty's side with his nose pressed into Bitty's shoulder. He's not really trying to wake Bitty up, but when he does stir, Jack starts to kiss up his bare shoulder to the side of his throat.

Bitty gasps, then starts laughing as he threads his fingers into Jack's hair.

"Can I wake up like this every morning?" His sleep-rough voice is soft and lower than usual, and it resonates against Jack's chest.

Jack only stops kissing and nuzzling at him long enough to say, "Absolutely."

Bitty laughs again, a delighted sound that makes Jack's chest tight with the knowledge that he caused it. Then Bitty's nudging at his head until he lifts it long enough for a kiss.

It's a short kiss, though, Bitty jerking his head back quickly.

"Oh my goodness!" he says, covering his mouth. "You've already brushed your teeth, and here I am with disgusting post-drunk morning breath!"

Jack burrows back in below Bitty's jaw. "I really don't care," he murmurs as he nips at the skin there.

"Well, I do." Bitty pushes at him and Jack rolls onto his back with a sigh. "I'll be right back, I promise."

He disappears out the bedroom door and is back in a moment with the overnight bag he'd left in the guest bedroom. The implications of the bag's total relocation makes a warm contentment spread through Jack's body.

Bitty is in and out of the bathroom in just a few minutes, sliding back between the sheets to lie on his side, facing Jack.

"Better?" Jack asks.

"Yeah," Bitty says. He looks suddenly shy. "So you haven't changed your mind? That wasn't just because of the alcohol?"

"God, no," Jack says, and kisses him again before any other doubts can bother him.

Soon Bitty is on his back again, Jack over him, their hands and mouths exploring each other's bare skin. Bitty's erection is pressing into him through their pajama pants, and when he rolls his hips Bitty's moan is punctuated by his nails digging into Jack's back.

And suddenly he needs to know—now, not later. He doesn't want to just use this to get off without knowing— _knowing—_ it's more than that.

"Bits," he pants, pulling back. Bitty's eyes open underneath him. "What if—what if I want more?"

Bitty's eyebrows shoot up. "More than what? Because I don't think we've exactly set any hard limits yet here."

"I mean…" Jack swallows, takes a deep breath. Ah, _there's_ the anxiety he was expecting before, though it's still little more than a flutter in his stomach. "What if I don't want this to be a one-time thing? I don't want this to just be hooking up. Or friends with benefits."

The smile that spreads across Bitty's face—shy and affectionate, maybe a little disbelieving—gives him his answer.

"Are you saying you want a relationship? Really? With me?"

Jack nods, knowing that how he feels is written across his own face. "More than anything."

"Jack." Bitty reaches up and touches his cheek, and Jack kisses his hand. He bites his own lip as his thumb runs over Jack's. "Are you sure, sweetheart? I don't wanna do anything that might be dangerous for you, or hurt your career."

"I'm sure," Jack murmurs. "We'll have to be careful, maybe not tell anyone just yet, but eventually." He gazes down at the man who may very well be the love of his life. "We'll have a lot to talk about, a lot of details to figure out, but for now—I just want to know, is that something you'd want?"

"Oh my goodness, yes, Jack. _Yes_." Bitty reaches up to kiss him, whispers one more _yes_ into his lips before pulling him down.

Jack goes willingly, kissing Bitty with new fervor, holding him close. Then later, sliding a hand between his thighs, until soon he's saying _yes, Jack, yes, yes_ for a different reason altogether.


	5. Story 4 Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It happens because of pie, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished a draft of my third study for my dissertation, so I earned myself a little fic-writing time. (Now as soon as I post this I have to get back to work...)
> 
> I read rhyolight's [The Internet is ForLorn](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6596689), and suddenly had the idea for this. And I knew it would be shorter than the other chapters I've started for this, so it seemed like a good choice since I can't spare too much time!
> 
> Special thanks to @omgchatplease and especially [Cap](http://archiveofourown.org/users/augopher/pseuds/SecretGeniusShittyKnight) for helping me with Bitty's vlog name!

Jack chews his lip as he surveys the ingredients assembled on his kitchen table and checks them against the recipe he's chosen. Everything seems to be accounted for, so he puts the butter in the freezer like he remembers Bittle going on about a few times. He has one last thing to figure out before he starts this pie.

He opens his laptop on the table and googles "how to make a pie lattice." If he's going to bake a pie as a surprise for Bittle when he comes to visit tomorrow, he's going to do it right. Obviously it won't be anywhere near what Bittle himself could do, but he can at least try to move up a notch from his disaster of a final project pie. And he knows that even if this one comes out worse, Bittle will be touched by the effort.

He tries to read some directions, but even the ones with photos just aren't good enough. He needs to see exactly how people's hands move when they do it, like he watched Bittle. So he goes to YouTube and enters the same search.

He watches one video that's not bad, but he can't stand the host's voice long enough to get to the end. The next one has a soothing voice, but quite honestly her lattice is nowhere near Bittle's level and Jack doesn't really think he wants to take advice from her. The next one on the list is from some big corporation, probably selling their butter or something, that's not what he wants.

The thumbnail for the one after that has the words "Pass the Biscuit Episode 32: The Perfect Lattice" stamped across a closeup of an absolutely gorgeous pie—the lattice is as perfect as anything he's seen Bittle do, so he knows this has to be the one. He leans forward as he clicks on it, wondering if there's any way he can slow the video down if this person's hands move too fast.

When he hears the cheerful "Hey, y'all!" over the title card, his eyes widen. And then there Bittle is, chattering away on the screen.

Jack is suddenly torn. He shouldn't watch this, but… he doesn't really want to take his eyes off Bittle. His fingers hover over the track pad, about to hit the backbutton, when he realizes—Bittle is talking about the class they took together.

That's _right_ —he'd used his time teaching Jack how to make his pie to videotape an episode about lattices for his vlog.

Jack frowns at the screen as Bittle talks about bribing his way into the class. He knows that Bittle didn't really want any of them to watch his videos, though he'd certainly never hidden the fact that he did them. But Jack already knows what's in this one—he was _there_ for most of the filming, just offscreen. (Thankfully, Bittle hadn't wanted to use his godawful attempt as an example of what not to do.) And he knows he won't find anyone better to learn from. Surely Bittle won't mind if he watches this one particular episode, since he's basically already seen it.

He's surprised that Bittle is talking about _him_ a bit, but he supposes he shouldn't be. The entire reason he decided to film a video about making lattices was because he was helping Jack with them, after all, and if Bittle contextualizes his videos with snippets about his life, obviously he'd be talking about Jack here. He's pretty sure that by that point, Bittle wouldn't have said anything _that_ bad about him. And even if he did, it's not like Jack would be mad. This was filmed nearly a year ago.

Finally, the camera cuts to a view of the Haus's kitchen counter, and when Bittle starts working, Jack is taken aback by deja vu. Obviously, this is a different view than he'd had, but he remembers watching as Bittle carefully angled his body so the camera could always see his hands. It paid off—Jack can tell exactly what he's doing, and it might even be better than watching in real life because he gets such a zoomed-in view.

Well, obviously watching in real life was better because he got to be with Bittle. Who, this video has reminded him, looked really gorgeous that day. He always looks good in the kitchen; there's something about the way baking relaxes him, but also gives him the chance to show off that makes him glow. But that day especially, the sun had been at a perfect angle to catch his hair, and Jack had had to work to keep from staring.

Jack has to rewind the video a couple of times because he keeps getting distracted by the competent, fluid way Bittle's hands move. He'd really been hoping that maybe his physical attraction to Bittle would fade if he didn't see him every single day, but instead every time he sees him—in person or onscreen—it just washes over him again. This time, how much he misses Bittle also hits him like a blow to the gut.

That hasn't gone away, either. It just got worse and worse, all summer, despite their being in constant contact. He'd hoped that maybe once Bittle got back to Samwell, once Jack could see him now and then, _then_ it would get better, but no. It's October, their seasons are both starting soon, and _still_ Jack finds himself thinking about Bittle at random times, wondering how often he can justify going up to Samwell. He's starting to think… well. It's just so completely different from the way he misses Shitty or Lardo; those two, he feels their absence, but it's more just an emptiness, a hole in his life where they're supposed to be. With Bittle, it _hurts_. And he's at a point where he can't really deny anymore that that must mean something. But he never lets himself think about it for long enough to actually admit to himself _what_ it might mean.

Now, the strange combination of watching Bittle's hands move with so much confidence, the nostalgia for an afternoon that ranks among his favorite memories at Samwell, his excitement to see Bittle tomorrow when he comes down to Providence for the day—it's all breaking down his carefully-built barriers.

Which is probably a bad thing to let happen right before they spend a day together. It will only make things awkward. He's about to shut off the video again when the lattice-weaving segment finishes up, and the shot moves back to Bittle's bedroom. Jack is startled to see that Bittle, even though he's wearing the exact same outfit he'd been wearing while they made pies together—he even still has flour on him—is visibly upset. Jack digs around in his memories. He remembers that Bittle left suddenly when they were done, but if he'd been upset at the time he'd hidden it. What on earth could have happened?

"If you're in a position like mine, where… you know. And it is something I should've learned a long time ago." Bittle covers his face with his hands. "Never fall for a straight boy."

Jack stares at the screen. Bitty is wiping his eyes and apologizing to his viewers for dumping his problems on them, then promising something for the next video, but Jack is hardly even listening to his words.

He'd left the kitchen, run up to his room, and filmed _that_.

Jack's breath comes in harsh gasps as thoughts fall like dominoes across his brain, every revelation leading directly into another. It's like this was the key he'd been missing to decode himself—to decode _both_ of them, and now there's no not thinking about it, no pushing it all back behind some mental wall.

He slams the laptop closed and scrambles for his phone—it's not on the table, not in his pocket. That's right, it's on the coffee table. He practically sprints the twenty feet from the kitchen, and he has his phone unlocked and Bitty's name on his screen before he really even thinks about what he's doing.

When he hears the phone ring on the other end, reality slams back down onto him. What is he doing? He wasn't even supposed to see that video. Is he really—

"Jack! Everything okay? I hope you're not calling to cancel on me, I've got a batch of those maple brown sugar cookies you like so well just out of the oven."

"No! No no, not canceling. I—" Jack pauses. To hell with it, he may as well just let his mouth do what it's going to do instead of slowing it down with any of that "thinking" business. "I'm sorry. Bitty, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—it's just, I thought it would be nice if I could make you a pie for once, even though it probably wouldn't be that great, it seems like the kind of gesture you'd appreciate, but I figured I could probably at least do better than last time, I mean, that one tasted fine because you were right there to walk me through it, but it looked ridiculous, and I thought I could at least make this one a _little_ bit prettier—"

"Jack, slow down! What are you apologizing for?"

Jack doesn't slow down.

"And I know you didn't want us to see, but in my defense it's not like I had any way to _know_ it was you before I clicked on it—"

"Oh, lord."

"—and then I thought it wasn't a big deal, because I was _there_ when you filmed that, I was literally in the room with you, and obviously watching you do it would be eighty times better than any other video I'd be able to find. I had no idea there would be other stuff on the video—"

"Oh, no. Jack." Bitty's voice is so small, and so scared. It's all wrong. "Look, if—I know—oh, dear lord, I'm so sorry. If you don't want me to come, I'll understand—"

" _No!_ " Jack takes a breath, because he probably shouldn't shout. "That's not—no, I was just calling, because I just—you know now that I'm not, right?"

There's just enough of a pause to let Jack realize that that he may have skipped a few details.

"…Not… mad?" Bitty tries.

"What? No! I mean, no, of course I'm not mad, but I meant—that—that was right before the Epikegster, and then you heard what happened with Kent, you must know I'm not straight, right?"

There's a longer pause, and Jack plays back what he just said. He might have tripped over his words some, but he thinks overall it was pretty clear what he meant.

"Um," Bitty finally says. "Well, you—you never really said anything about it, and I was pretty drunk, y'know, so I couldn't really be _sure_ what I heard, and I didn't want to assume…"

"Well… I'm not. I just. Needed to make sure you knew that. Because it didn't sound like you did then."

"No," Bitty says slowly. "I didn't. I'm glad you told me, Jack, but… you seem awful, well, I guess agitated would be the word, so. You saw that video, and what I said, and then the thing that got you upset enough to call me all in a tizzy was you needin' me to know you're not straight? You… sure you're not upset about the rest of it?"

"No," Jack says, his brain finally slowing down enough that his mouth can slow down some, too. He runs a hand through his hair, finally letting himself relax back into the couch. "God, no, Bits. I'm thrilled."

"Oh," Bitty says quietly. "Oh."

Jack's wide smile starts to fade. "I mean, um, I know it's an old video, so I guess, it, um, it might not be, like, relevant or accurate anymore—"

Bitty laughs, and tension drains from Jack's shoulders.

"I swear, this boy. Not relevant or accurate. Good lord, Jack, don't be ridiculous."

"Okay," Jack says, smiling like a fool. "Okay, good. So, um, I was thinking, maybe, while you're here tomorrow, we could… talk. About us."

"Oh," Bitty says again, but this time Jack can hear the smile in it. Maybe he should have done this over FaceTime. "Us?"

"About how maybe there should be an 'us' to talk about."

"You… you'd want that?"

"You have no idea how much I want that," Jack says. It's amazing, how the place in his chest where the pain of missing Bitty used to live has suddenly filled up with something entirely new.

"Oh my goodness," Bitty says. He sounds a little overwhelmed. Jack supposes they both are, a little. "Yeah. I would love to talk about that, Jack. I—wow."

"I'm sorry I watched your video."

Bitty laughs. "I don't think I am."

There are other things Jack wants to say, but he wants to say them in person. And Bittle will be here in less than a day.

"Um, I guess I should probably go, I'm probably going to need to go through a couple of practice crusts to get that lattice right, even with the best video tutorial I could possibly ask for."

"I love that you wanted to do that for me, Jack," Bitty says, sounding shy now. "But maybe you should put it off and let me help you with it in person tomorrow."

Jack thinks about Bitty's deft hands over his, guiding them.

"That'd be great," he says.

"Unfortunately," Bitty continues, "I do have some homework that I absolutely must get done tonight if I'm going to spend all day in Providence tomorrow, so I probably should go."

"When's the latest you have to be back by?" Jack asks.

"Well, since it's a Saturday, the last train leaves at ten, but if you wanted to give me a ride back I suppose I could stay later."

"You don't have to be up early Sunday?"

"No, I don't have anything goin' on Sunday until our practice in the afternoon," Bitty says.

Jack takes a deep breath. "Then maybe, if you wanted to, you could… plan to spend the night? I could drive you back Sunday morning."

"Oh my goodness," Bitty murmurs again. "Sure, yeah. That would be great. I guess I'll… I'll pack a few things and plan on that." He laughs disbelievingly as he says the last part. Jack knows the feeling.

"Great. I can't wait to see you."

"Me neither, sweetheart," Bitty says. "Thanks for calling me, Jack."

"I should do it more often. I know we text all the time, but… I really love hearing your voice." Jack's wanted to say that for so long, but he thought it would be a weird thing to say to a friend. He probably should have taken the hint that he didn't _want_ to be just friends.

"Jack, we are getting off this phone right now or I won't stop blushing all night! The boys'll think I've got a sunburn. I'll see you tomorrow, you ridiculous boy."

Jack smiles. "I'll see you tomorrow, Bits."

He stares at his phone once they've hung up. Nothing's even happened yet, and he's already happier than he can remember ever being. Even signing with the Falcs, it was less this kind of elation and more just overwhelming _relief_ , the knowledge that after everything, he was still good enough for a team to want him.

This, though. This is like taking all of the pain he's felt when he's thought about or seen Bitty since May and turning it inside-out. This is _right_. This is what they're supposed to be.

His phone lights up with a text.

 **Bittle** : I know I was going to take the train that got me in around 11  
But given the circumstances  
Do you think you could pick me up from the station around 8?

 **Jack** : Are you sure you want to get up that early?

 **Bittle** : Well this is probably gonna be a lot more fun than checking practice, so…

Jack smirks, thinking about Bitty blushing.

 **Jack** : I don't know, it might involve pushing you up against walls.

 **Bittle** :   
You know, it'll only take me a couple hours to get this paper finished  
Looks like there's a train that could get me there by 9.

 **Jack** : Bittle.  
Take your time and do the paper right.  
…Then let me know when you're on the train.


	6. Story 4 Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty is on the train to see Jack, and "it happens because of pie" takes on a whole new meaning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahahahahahahaha oh boy. Sooooooo many fics where I've said in the comments oh, yeah, I might do some timestamps or a sequel. Where I'm totally thinking about it right after I post the fic, I even have some scenes in mind, only to have that idea fade away as I get into something else.
> 
> So of _course_ the one time I put in the author's note that nope, these will not have sequels.... *sigh*
> 
> In my defense, probably the only reason this actually got written is because I couldn't just not ever show anyone these baking metaphors. And I passed my pre-defense this week, so I earned some more fic writing time.

**Bitty** : I'm on the train!  
According to the schedule, it should get in at 8:40

 **Jack** : I can't wait. :)

Eric bites his lip. He is actually doing this. He's on a train, over half a day earlier than he'd planned, just so he can… spend the night with Jack, whatever that means.

He thinks he has some idea what it means. Or what Jack wants it to mean. What _he_ wants it to mean.

Well, what he _theoretically_ wants it to mean. He's… not a hundred percent sure he's confident about the putting that theory into practice part? It's not like he's "not ready" for sex, especially with—dear Lord, this is _real??_ —Jack Zimmermann. In many ways, he is _so very ready_.

It's just a little nerve-wracking, is all. Three hours ago he was planning to go down to Providence tomorrow, get lunch with Jack, hang out at his place for a couple hours, catching up and maybe playing the Wii U Jack just bought (after a phone call to Eric asking "What's the thing we had in the Haus that we did Mario Kart on? Next time you guys come down we should play Mario Kart, I miss that."), and then head back to Samwell after dinner. This _spending the night_ thing represents a very sudden change of plans and, well, he always kind of assumed that he'd have a little more warning before he lost his virginity? Like maybe a couple of dates?

But it's _Jack_. He loves Jack as a friend and he's _in_ love with Jack, and he knows Jack at the very least loves him as a friend. He doesn't know exactly how Jack would characterize his… other feelings, but that doesn't really matter, all that matters is that they're _there_. He trusts Jack. He doesn't need dates; he's got a year and a half of steadily-deepening friendship instead. He's not _not ready_ to have sex with Jack. Not in general.

He's just not a hundred percent sure he can handle it happening _right this very minute_. Or, well. He's on a train, not now. But tonight. Even tomorrow seems more… doable.

Jack won't mind waiting one day, right? Even if Eric did imply that that's the whole reason he's coming down tonight… But Jack is definitely not the type to get upset about that sort of thing. And Eric isn't even actually sure that he _won't_ want to do anything tonight. It won't even be nine when they get to Jack's apartment, they could easily talk for two hours and then maybe he'll feel totally different.

Lord, at the rate he's going right now he'll be too nervous to even _talk_ to Jack about anything feelings-adjacent and they'll just wind up playing Mario Kart all evening.

He doesn't want that, but he also doesn't know how to be less nervous about something like this. He can't even call Shitty or Lardo and have them talk him down; he and Jack obviously haven't discussed details yet, but he's not stupid, he knows this is gonna have to be a secret.

The train pulls into the next station, and the lady sitting in front of him gets off. Eric chews his lip as he watches the station disappear, as his window goes dark again. He turns his phone over and over in his hands, worrying at the edges of the case.

There is one person he can call, of course. It seems awfully embarrassing to call him _now_ and admit to being so nervous, but… that's what a relationship is supposed to be, right? Secret or no, there's not really much point to being an "us," as Jack said, if they can't talk about something as simple as some nerves.

Before he can talk himself back out of it, he hits the call button.

"Hey, Bits! Your train delayed or something?"

"No, no," Eric says. "Should be there right on schedule. I just, um. I just maybe wanted to talk before I got there."

"Okay," Jack says slowly. "What's up?"

Eric lets out a slightly shrill laugh. "Honestly, I'm just sitting here, so dang nervous, I don't know what to do."

"Haha, yeah, me too." Jack says it so matter-of-factly that it takes a second for Eric to realize exactly what he said.

"Wait—Jack. What on earth do you have to be nervous about?"

Jack is the millionaire professional athlete who looks like a Greek god. Eric is… none of those things. And five years younger and a virgin. It's very clear who should be nervous here.

"Well, I mean, you already know I want this. I called you just to tell you I want this. But once we sit down and talk about it, and you realize that dating me is probably going to be kind of a pain in the ass, I have no reason to think you'll actually want it, too."

The vulnerability in Jack's voice makes Eric's heart clench, his own nerves forgotten.

"Oh, sweetheart, no! Jack, I know we haven't talked about it yet, but I have a pretty good idea what I'm getting into here. I know you can't be out, I know you're gonna be traveling all the time once the season starts, I know there's a lot that's not gonna be perfect. And I wouldn't be on this train right now if I weren't okay with that. It's not ideal, but what ever is?"

Jack is quiet for a moment, and for once Eric doesn't feel a pressing need to fill the silence. He's learned to be okay with some of Jack's silences.

"It helps more than I expected to hear you say that," he finally says. "It's strange, it's not like I thought you had no idea, that would be ridiculous. But I know this is kind of sudden, and I guess maybe I was worried that in all the excitement you'd forgotten. And as soon as I reminded you, it would take the shine off of things."

"Jack," Eric says. "This is very, very shiny. Like, they can see the glint off of it at the International Space Station. You're gonna have to come up with something a hell of a lot worse'n that to make a dent in that kind of glare."

"What about you?" Jack says. The change of topic isn't subtle, but Eric doesn't press. "What on earth do _you_ have to be nervous about?"

"Oh, gosh." Eric remembers, suddenly, what he's nervous about, and at the same time becomes very aware of the fact that he's on a fairly quiet train with at least a dozen other people in his car. "Well, I just… Well, I've never…. You know how I sent all those blushing emojis?"

"Bits," Jack says, and the gentleness in his voice says that he knows what Eric is trying to say. "You know that's not my main concern, right? We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, and we can take things as slow as you want. I won't be disappointed or upset."

Eric bites his lip. Jack is saying all the right things, but Jack clearly thinks he's _not ready_ in the way that he's really _not_ not ready. He has no idea how to explain what he's really thinking, especially in public. Lord, he really should have had this conversation by text.

Before he can suggest that maybe they switch to a more silent mode of communication, Jack seems to mistake his silence for shame and continues.

"I'm serious. Look, I'll be totally honest—I really want to kiss you. And I really want to hold you. But anything beyond that really is icing on the cake."

"It's not like I don't want icing on my cake!" Eric blurts out. "I don't want just a plain cake with no icing—I mean, _obviously_ , the cake is the important part, and I would take it over no cake any day, hands down. But I don't _not_ want icing! I just—I don't exactly have much experience, or _any_ experience, really, with cake decorating. And like, you can probably make all these fancy roses and write on the cake in a pretty script, while I'm gonna be over here making these ugly wobbly letters and random blobs of frosting that don't look like anything. And I didn't even know when I woke up this morning that I would have any sort of opportunity to decorate a cake today and now suddenly here I am, and quite honestly I would kind of love to decorate a cake tonight but I'm also not sure it's a good idea to do it when I'm _this_ nervous about it because it's just gonna make me screw up even worse."

He stops to take a breath, and Jack jumps in. "It's not like this is a cake decorating competition," he points out. "Kind of the point of it is that we'll be decorating _our_ cake, _together_."

"I know," Eric says, his voice getting slightly whiny. "But that's just it. You know, I've… I've made pies, right, but they're just for me, so I can make 'em however I want and if one doesn't turn out right it don't really matter. Decorating a cake with someone else, _for_ someone else, that's a totally different skill set and what if it turns out I'm no good at it?"

"…Are the pies masturbation?"

"Oh my Lord, you're not supposed to say it, that ruins the whole effect," Eric says, but he's laughing.

"Okay, okay," Jack says fondly. "Look, that's a normal thing to be nervous about. I mean, it's normal to be nervous about doing _anything_ for the first time, especially when you want to do it well to make someone happy. But look at it this way—how did you get so good at making pies?"

"Uh." Eric frowns. "It wasn't too hard for an eleven-year-old boy to figure out."

Jack snorts. "Not the metaphorical pies. Real pies. How did you get so amazing at baking real pies?"

Eric sighs. "Years and _years_ of practice." He doesn't exactly _have_ years and years to get good at this, though.

"Exactly. So if you're not a cake decorating expert on your first try, then I guess I'll just have to take one for the team and practice with you a whole, whole lot." Jack's voice drops into something more blatantly suggestive, and Eric's cheeks warm. "Like, every chance we get. You know how I can get when I want to help you learn a new skill."

Eric glances around the train car, his hand over his mouth. Nobody is paying him any attention.

"It's a good thing nobody on this train is looking at me, Mr. Zimmermann," he hisses into the phone, "because one look at how red my face is right now and they'd see right through all this cake decorating talk."

Jack laughs. "And anyhow, Bits, even if your handwriting is wobbly and the colors are terrible and it's all uneven and there are weird blobs all over the cake, you know what? It's still gonna taste amazing. Absolutely anything you make is going to be delicious, and that's all that really matters here. And if we look at it and decide we want it to look nicer next time, or just different, we'll figure it out together. It's not like _I'm_ an expert, either."

By the time Jack's done, Eric is smiling. He's smiling, and he's in love, and this is the most wonderful thing to ever happen to him.

"Okay," he says. "Okay. We'll figure it out. I'll admit that I'm kind of surprised that this conversation, strange at it has been, has actually made me feel better."

"Sometimes, I try to talk about my feelings, and hockey comes out. Apparently for you, baking comes out."

"Yeah, well, speaking of baking," Eric says, "you shouldn't be chirping the boy who's got two dozen maple cookies for you in his bag."

"Excellent." There's a smirk in Jack's voice that tells Eric he's not taking the warning about chirping very seriously. "We'll need something to keep our energy up during our cake decorating marathon."

Eric rolls his eyes. "That was terrible," he says, and Jack laughs. "You are terrible. Just the worst. I can't wait to see you."

It's amazing how easily it comes out.

"Me neither," Jack says. "Speaking of, you're going to be here in like ten minutes. I should probably get going toward the train station."

"Oh gosh, wow!" Eric looks out the window and Jack is right. They're pulling out of the South Attleboro station now, and Providence will be next. "I didn't realize we'd been on the phone that long. Yeah, I guess you better come get me!"

There's a pause. "Just to be serious for one second," Jack says, "don't forget that we're friends first, okay? That's never going to change. Everything else, we'll build onto that. But you're my best friend before anything else, and I'm really glad you could call me and talk to me about this stuff."

Eric presses his lips together. The first time he says "I love you" shouldn't be over the phone, but it's going to be tonight, because this man is amazing and deserves to know it.

"Me, too, sweetheart," he finally says. "I'm so glad I called. And, Jack, I'm just so, so happy about all of this."

"Me, too, Bits," Jack says. "Okay, I'm in the car, I need to get off the phone and I'll see you in just a few minutes, okay?"

"Perfect. See you soon."

Eric hangs up and lets his head fall back against the seat. He takes a deep breath and sighs it out. He thinks about spending the night with Jack, and now it doesn't make his heart race or his thoughts spin out of control. It just makes him warm all over, his stomach full of gentle anticipation butterflies instead of the swarm of nervous bees he had before. Whatever happens, whatever they do or don't do, it'll be perfect, just because they'll be together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I just looked at the last chapter and realized there's a whole bit in there about how Jack shouldn't make the pie by himself tonight, he should wait and let Bitty help him. I need some cry-laughing emojis. Btw, in this little universe Bitty is _never_ going to live down this cake decorating metaphor. Like, ever. He'll be making Jack's 40th birthday cake and Jack will turn it into something dirty. On the up side, they can now talk about sex wherever and whenever they want. They'll probably work out a whole system of codes.


	7. Story 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this one sitting half-finished on my phone for at least a good six months, maybe more. I've got like six partially-finished longfics and was feeling overwhelmed by it all, so pulling this out and getting it finished and posted seemed like a good way to get out of that mess for a bit.
> 
> I've got one more of these stories rattling around my head, who knows when it'll get written out. I also have an idea for a third part to that "cake decorating" one but it would be smutty, while the rating for this has been T up until now. So I might pull the whole thing out into its own fic? Though that might annoy people who've already read 2/3 of it, IDK. Should I just add it here and change the rating? Let me know if you have an opinion.
> 
> Chapter warning: Jack has a panic attack.

Jack double-checks his pantry and refrigerator—lots of butter, three different types of flour, white and brown sugar, several types of fruit fresh from his neighborhood's last farmer's market of the year, everything else that, as far as he can tell, Bittle would need to bake whatever he wants. Jack's mother helped him pick out bakeware when she was in town last weekend. He didn't tell her his plan, but when he said Bittle was coming to visit for a weekend and he wants to make sure he feels at home in his kitchen, her knowing smile said he probably didn't need to.

Something has been growing between them for—well, for probably a year, really, but Jack has only figured it out in the past month or so. They were in constant contact all summer, and somewhere along the line he thinks Bitty went from one of his closest friends to his best friend. Sort of.

He isn't quite _closer_ to him than to Shitty necessarily, but close in a different way. There's something more… _intimate_ about their closeness. Jack feels more vulnerable with Bitty, but he's okay with that in a way he can't imagine being with his other friends. He has no idea how it took him so long to realize what that intimacy and vulnerability means. That what he and Bitty have been building isn't a friendship, not exactly. Not the way his relationships with Shitty and Lardo are friendships.

When Jack stopped by Samwell in August, he still hadn't figured it out. He just knew that he wanted to spend more time with Bittle than anyone. He itched to touch, but he dismissed that as pure physical attraction—ignoring, he now realizes, the fact that most of the touching he wanted wasn't sexual at all.

Since then, their friendship, or whatever it is, has only accelerated. They Skype almost daily, but they were doing that over the summer, too. Now they talk on the phone as well—there's something about having Bitty's voice right in his ear, late at night just before he falls asleep, that's far more intimate than his laptop screen ever could be. They've started trading photos throughout the day along with their texts, something Jack has never really done with anyone.

And one day a couple of weeks ago, Jack realized that Bitty's face is the first thing he sees most mornings and his voice is the last thing he hears most nights, even though they're in different states instead of the same house. And he realized that he wants to always have that. And then he realized that you don't call that friendship, not exactly. He's pretty sure Bitty knows exactly what's happening between them, too, and Jack wonders how much sooner he figured it out.

He would have talked to Bitty about it sooner, but this is something he wants to do in person. And either of them could have visited for an evening here or there, but there hasn't been time for an overnight visit without one of them leaving at dawn. This weekend is the first time he's been able to get Bitty down here for two days—and likely the last for a while, with both their seasons starting soon. It's not an ideal situation for a relationship, but the fact is, they've been doing pretty well so far.

Jack isn't quite sure how to go about this. He's come up with plenty of plans, but he has no idea which one is right. Part of him wants to kiss Bittle as soon as they get into his apartment. Part of him wants to do a lot more than that, but he has no idea what Bitty will be comfortable with so soon.

He could wait and talk to him about it over dinner, or while Bitty is baking, or while whatever he bakes is in the oven. While Bitty is looking around his kitchen for the first time, Jack could wrap his arms around him.

He just knows he has to do it today, before they go to bed. He couldn't bear to sleep a room away from Bitty tonight. Maybe that's it—wait until bedtime and ask Bitty to come sleep with him. …Probably not.

He's still not completely sure by the time he picks Bitty up from the train station, but he tells himself that he'll know when the time is right. That's how these things work, right? You look at them and you just know that this is the moment, that you have to say it, right now.

What he didn't count on was every moment feeling like the moment. Because as soon as he sees Bitty, all he wants to do is kiss him and hold him and profess his love. Constantly, repeatedly—at the train station, in the car, on the way from the parking garage, as he shows Bitty around the apartment. How the hell is he supposed to differentiate between the right moment and his own lack of self-control?

Bitty seems to be utterly oblivious to Jack's dilemma.

"Oh, that's Lardo's painting! You told me you bought one, but you never showed me which one. Good choice!"

"Would you look at that view! Oh, Jack, the screen does not do it justice."

"Oh goodness, I know this poor, gorgeous oven of yours hasn't hardly been touched. Don't worry, sweetheart, we'll give you a good workout this weekend."

Jack leaves Bitty's bag in the entryway. He hopes Bitty will be sleeping with him tonight, so he doesn't really want to put it in the guest room, but putting it in his own room would be... well, it would certainly be one way of declaring his intentions, but even Jack is not that awkward.

Luckily, once Bitty enters the kitchen he doesn't seem inclined to leave; he doesn't even ask to see where he'll be sleeping. Jack shows him the stocked pantry and refrigerator, along with the brand-new high-end bakeware, and the adoring smile Bitty gives him makes him blush.

"Mr. Zimmermann, you are just too good to me. Look at all this! I know you haven't been using it."

"Wouldn't want you to be cranky all weekend because you couldn't bake, eh, Bittle?" Jack's shy smile and the way he rubs his neck as he says it probably softens the impact of the chirp significantly.

Bitty snorts. "Well, it takes a lot less than Williams Sonoma to keep me from getting cranky, but I'm not about to complain! This stuff is gorgeous, Jack, I can't wait to get my hands on it."

 _I love you and I'll buy anything at all for my kitchen if it makes you smile like that_ , Jack doesn't say.

"Don't let me stop you," he does say. "Need any help?"

Of course Bittle needs help, and soon Jack is peeling apples while Bitty is working a pastry cutter into a bowl of butter and flour, chattering away. As much as they've been talking lately, you'd think Bitty would run out of things to say, or Jack would get tired of hearing it, but neither seems likely to happen anytime soon.

As soon as the pie is in the oven, Bitty turns to face Jack. They're standing barely inches apart, and Jack pushes down the instinct to slide his hands around Bitty's waist. It feels like the natural thing to do though... Maybe that means that now is the right moment?

"Should we get started on dinner?" Bitty asks just as Jack opens his mouth to speak.

"Um, sure, yeah. I've got stuff for a few different meals..." Jack motions vaguely to the refrigerator. They're still standing too close, maybe he should still go ahead and touch him.

Instead, it's Bitty who touches him. Just a hand laid on his arm, but it makes Jack think that maybe he should kiss him.

"I saw stuff for chicken alfredo in there, how's that sound?"

"I have stuff for chicken alfredo?"

Okay, moment probably gone. Jack resists smacking himself on the forehead. Why is this so hard?

Bitty laughs, then lets go of him to head back to the refrigerator. "It's just a basic roux plus Parmesan and a little cream or milk," he says as he pulls a pack of chicken breasts out. "Here, you chop up a couple of these and I'll get the sauce and the pasta going."

Jack takes the chicken almost automatically and starts seeking out a cutting board and a sharp knife.

He's nearly done cutting the chicken into neat, bite-sized pieces when it all goes to hell.

Bitty is mixing some cream into the sauce with one hand while he gets a pan heating for the chicken with the other, chattering the entire time. How he does all that when he can't study for one class, Jack doesn't know.

"I gotta admit, it's a little weird going to Annie's alone. I mean, obviously nine times out of ten I'm with the other guys, but I think last year I didn't even realize that you were filling up that one time outta ten, y'know? I'm not sure I went alone once all last spring. Although, well, I guess—um. Well."

"Yeah?"

Bitty fidgets with the wooden spoon uncomfortably, looking like he isn't sure he wants to keep talking. Jack is about to tell him it's fine, he doesn't have to say anything he doesn't want to, when he starts again.

"Well, it's just that I guess it was maybe good that I wasn't with the boys last time I was there, a couple days ago, because, um—a guy there asked me out."

Jack concentrates very hard on slicing the last of the chicken very, very neatly.

"Oh?" he eventually prompts, more quietly than he'd intended.

"Yeah, um, his name is Paul. We got to talkin' in line. Turns out he's been to a few of our games." Bitty shrugs as he pours some olive oil into the pan. He doesn't seem overly excited about this guy, but that does little to slow Jack's racing heart. "He's cute enough, seems nice. So when he asked if I wanted to get dinner next weekend—well, technically he asked if I wanted to get dinner this weekend, but obviously I had plans." That's good, that should help, right? It doesn't. Jack's chest tightens. "So anyhow, we're getting dinner next weekend, I guess. I mean, it's not a huge deal, I barely know the guy. It might be a disaster, but I figure I should… I should try, right?"

Bitty's monologue ends. Apparently it's Jack's turn to speak.

"Yeah," he forces out. His voice is raspy, but he's thankful he can get it out through the tightness in his chest at all. When Bitty casts a concerned glance his way, a wave of guilt washes over him. It's a good thing he's done chopping the chicken, because his hands are trembling now. He turns on the faucet, hoping that the motion of washing them will hide the shaking. "I'm sure—I'm sure you'll have fun. The—the chicken's done. I just—I—I'll be back in a—in a minute or two."

He walks quickly back to his bedroom, ignoring the soft way Bitty says his name as he goes. He focuses on his breathing as he goes, tries to shut out all thoughts of Bitty or Paul or anything else but not hyperventilating. It doesn't work.

When he gets to his room, he goes right to his bed, leaving the light off. He sits against the headboard, forehead on his knees, and breathes deeply. It comes out as a gasp the first time. He tries again.

_You're too late, you idiot, you're too late, if he ever did feel that way you waited too long and he's moved on, just like he should, it's not like you could give him the kind of relationship he deserves, not like Paul can. And look at you, do you have any idea how guilty he would feel if he knew HE'S the reason you're having a panic attack? Of course you do, you're sick, you're trying to guilt him into loving you—_

"Stop," Jack sobs quietly. His hands are already in his hair, and he pulls, hoping to stop the voice in his head for a second.

It works, but the voice will be back soon enough, and he's still not breathing right.

"You can do this," he whispers to himself. He's spent years in therapy learning how to handle this, but every time he has to, it feels like this time it won't work. He plows ahead anyhow.

Sure enough, the voice comes back, louder.

_You're too late—_

"You don't know that," he whispers. "He has one date scheduled with one guy he just met, and he doesn't even sound all that excited about it."

_A guy who can give him everything you can't—_

"He can decide for himself if he's okay with what I can give him."

_This is just sick, what you're doing, trying to guilt him—_

"I didn't—I didn't choose this. I don't want this. I'm not doing this on purpose to make him feel guilty."

_You're still too late, you can't ask him to cancel a date for you—_

"Maybe I'm too late, maybe not, I don't know. And I can, of course I can ask; it's his choice."

_Not after this, now he'll just say yes because you're so pathetic—_

"He won't. He wouldn't. And—and If I think for one second he is, we'll talk about it."

_Stupid. As if he would ever feel—_

Jack sighs. "Stop it," he says out loud. He jams the heels of his hands into his eyes. He's not gasping for breath anymore, if he can only get this nasty voice to stop. "There's something there," he mutters, "you know there is. And you went into this knowing he might say no. This doesn't change anything. Maybe he has one more reason to say no, maybe he doesn't. You're not going to guilt him into anything, and you're not going to give up without even asking. Neither one would be fair to either of you."

He takes a slow, deep breath and focuses on everything that's happened before they started talking about Annie's. The way Bitty looks at him, which he's sure he returns tenfold. The easiness of their conversation. The casual touches. He's not imagining things—Bitty may not want a relationship with him for many reasons, but he doesn't doubt their feelings for each other.

He manages to calm himself enough that the hesitant knock at the door doesn't startle him or send him spiraling back down.

"Come in," he says, then clears his throat and repeats it. He wipes at his face, but there are only a few tears there.

"Hey," Bitty says softly from the doorway. Jack can't see his face in the dark room, backlit by the hall light as he is. "Just so you know, the food's ready, but it'll keep if you need some time."

"No, I—I'm fine," Jack says, his voice clearer. "I mean, I wasn't, but I am now. You can come in if you want."

Bitty steps into the room, opening the door wider. "You want the light off still, sweetheart?"

The pet name loosens some of the remaining tightness in Jack's chest, and he breathes a sigh of relief as he reaches across the bed to turn on the dim lamp on his nightstand. Bitty comes as far as the foot of the bed, then hesitates. Jack can see his expression now, and he sees worry, but not pity.

Jack scoots over a little and pats the bed next to him. Bitty smiles a little and comes around to the side of the bed.

"Can I touch you?" he asks softly as he climbs onto the bed.

"Yeah," Jack replies, just as quiet. He's smiling a little now, if a little lopsidedly, and is sure that every bit of his love for Bitty must be clear in the way he's gazing.

Bitty, for his part, tucks his hands around Jack's arm and lays his head on Jack's shoulder. He curls his knees up the same way Jack's are, and lets their legs knock together. Jack leans his head on Bitty's in return and lets out a long breath.

How could he doubt this, even for a moment? This is _right_. He may or may not get to keep it in the way that he really wants, but sitting here with Bitty curled against him, he finds that he can't question their feelings for each other if he tries.

They sit quietly for a minute, breathing together.

"Jack, I'm sorry," Bitty says in nearly a whisper. "I shouldn't have mentioned—"

"That wasn't your fault," Jack cuts him off. "I mean—what you said, it. That's what I was freaking out about, but there was no way for you to know that would happen. _I_ didn't realize it would happen."

"But still, it was… I guess rude isn't the right word. Insensitive? I'm sorry."

Jack isn't quite sure what Bitty means. He seems to know what it was that he said that upset Jack, but it doesn't sound like he's got the right reason for it. Which makes sense, since Jack hasn't told him the real reason.

Jack takes a deep breath. This is the moment, it has to be whether he likes it or not, because he can't let this sit. But as soon as he tells himself that, he realizes that it feels right. He _wants_ to talk to Bitty about this right now.

He slides Bitty's hands off his arm, but only so he can twine their fingers together. Four hands layered on top of each other, lying on the seam where their legs are pressed together. Jack can't help but think how nice they'd look with rings on two of those hands.

He manages not to start with _I love you_ , though it's a close thing.

"So, I had this plan," he says, his words coming out a little haltingly despite himself. "For this weekend. I wanted—I was going to—to tell you how I feel about you, and ask you… ask you to be my boyfriend."

Bitty draws in a sharp breath, his hands tightening on Jack's. "Oh," he says. Whatever he was expecting, it sounds like it wasn't that.

Then he picks up his head, dislodging Jack's from atop it. "Oh, honey," he says as Jack looks down into wide brown eyes. "You don't honestly think I'd choose some random boy I talked to for ten minutes over you, do you?"

Apparently there had been some tiny flicker of doubt left deep inside of Jack, because the lightness as it leaves is like nothing he's ever felt before. He smiles to the point that there's a little bit of laughter in it, and thinks he might just cry a little, too, if he's not careful. He leans his forehead on Bitty's.

"Not really, no," he says. "I know that, Bits. Just—I guess there was some part of me, some part of my brain that the anxiety was controlling, that—you know, I'm not even sure that _it_ believed that, but it was looking for any excuse to attack me. And once it started, things spiraled out of control. My therapist calls it intrusive thoughts? It's not like I'm hearing voices or something, but these thoughts I don't want push their way into my head, telling me how stupid I am, how I missed my chance with you, and then they moved on to things like saying I was having a panic attack on purpose to try and guilt you into dating me."

Bitty actually laughs at that. Jack pauses, sure that he wouldn't laugh at him but not sure what he _is_ laughing at.

"Oh, sweetheart, that's just—" Bitty shakes his head, grinning up at Jack. He reaches up and touches Jack's cheek gently. "The very idea that you would ever have to guilt me into loving you."

And, well. Jack just has to kiss him then.

It takes a concentrated effort to keep it to two or three soft, short kisses before he pulls back. He doesn't want to stop, ever, but they have all night and they need to at least finish this conversation. When he does pull back, he tries to memorized the look on Bitty's face—eyes still closed, lips pink, slightly dazed.

Bitty's eyes flutter open.

"Uh," Jack says, momentarily lost in Bitty's eyes. He tilts his forehead back down so they're touching—if they can't be kissing, he wants to be as close as he can, at least. Close enough that he can feel Bitty's breath on his lips. "Anyhow. I'm fine now. It really wasn't your fault, there was no reason for you not to tell me about that. It's what was happening in your life, and I want to hear about that. Okay, I guess I don't really want to hear about you going on dates with another guy, but that's because I don't really want you to go on dates with other guys. But if that's what you want, I'll deal with it, and I'd want to hear about it."

Bitty's eyes narrow. "Please don't tell me that you actually think I want that at this point."

Jack shrugs. "I don't want to assume, and I really don't want to pressure you or anything. It'd have to be a secret, and that really isn't fair to you so I wouldn't hold it against you if—"

Bitty cuts him off with a kiss, which surprises Jack enough that he forgets to close his eyes until it's almost over.

"I like being able to do that," Bitty says with a grin.

Jack smiles. "Does that mean—okay. Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

"Of course I do," Bitty says as he leans in to kiss Jack one more time.

After they pull back, Bitty puts his head back on Jack's shoulder, this time with his face tucked in closer to Jack's neck. He sighs heavily.

"It really is a little my fault, though," he says. "I completely misread the situation." He snuggles closer and Jack gets his arms around him. Jack opens his mouth to point out that Bitty couldn't have known his plans for the weekend, but Bitty keeps talking. "I mean, I know I've never had a boyfriend or anything, but I'm not stupid. I may have been in denial for a long time, telling myself you couldn't possibly have feelings for me, but there's a line, y'know? Where even I can't pretend we're just bros being bros anymore."

Jack chuckles. "So at what point did we cross that line for you?"

"Hmm… Sometime after I got back to Samwell. I mean, things were kind of different all summer, and it just sort of kept escalatin', but for a long time I told myself it was because we couldn't hang out every day, and you were, like, overcompensating. Or you were feeling insecure with graduating and having to fit in with a new team and all and you were just clingin' to your college buddies even tighter. But then Shitty was at the Haus once right after school started, and everyone was talking about you because they'd put up some new video on the Falconers site, and he was going on about how he was gonna watch it ten times because he missed hearing your voice. And it took me a minute to realize that you don't talk to anyone else on the phone every day."

"No," Jack agrees. He lifts one of Bitty's hands and presses it lightly to his lips, kissing it repeatedly. His skin is so warm against Jack's.

"But I thought… Well, I assumed, really, I guess, that that was all I was gonna get. I thought you'd never said anything outright because you wouldn't want that kind of relationship, especially not right now. And, I mean, it's gotten to the point…" He picks his head up and gives Jack a small smile. "You're a great boyfriend, you know that, even when you're not actually a boyfriend?"

Jack laughs. "I'm what?"

"Just—" Bitty shrugs. "The past few weeks, you've been making me feel so special. Like no one ever has before. Like I mean the world to you."

"You do."

Bitty blushes as a huge grin overtakes his face. "And some of the things you've said about my selfies, my goodness. If you were trying to be subtle, you failed."

"I wasn't," Jack admits. "I've had feelings for you for a long time, but I didn't realize it until maybe two or three weeks ago, because I'm an idiot. But once I realized what it was, I knew what I wanted. So I didn't see any reason to pretend I wasn't in love with you."

Bitty smiles at that, biting his lip. "Anyhow," he says, "I thought it was your way of… I dunno, making up for the fact that we couldn't actually be together, I guess. And I was sad about that, but I couldn't blame you, really. I thought it was sweet you were giving me as much as you could of yourself. But I figured anyone would tell me the healthy thing to do would be to try to move on—lord, I don't even know what I would've done if I had gotten a boyfriend, bein' so hung up on you. Even if I found a guy I could maybe eventually fall in love with, there's just no way he could mean half as much to me at first as you do. And nobody wants to be the third wheel in their own relationship."

"I know it's petty, but I really like hearing you say stuff like that."

Bitty giggles as he nuzzles Jack's cheek. "You are ridiculous. And I am trying to make a point, which is that when I told you I had a date, I was trying to—I don't know, to let you know I was gonna be okay? I know you, Jack, and I know that if you didn't want a relationship with me then you'd want me to move on and be happy. You wouldn't want me to settle for a half-relationship that could never be real."

"I don't know," Jack says. "That sounds right, but I'm having such a hard time imagining not wanting a relationship with you that it's hard to say."

"Oh my lord," Bitty mutters to himself before continuing. "So, yeah. It felt weird to bring up, and I sort of didn't want to because part of me did want to just keep what we had forever, even if I could never have more. But I knew I shouldn't do that, and I thought you'd want to know I was trying, at least. Then it was obvious that's what upset you, but I still couldn't take a hint, apparently. I thought maybe you were really upset we couldn't be together and here I was throwing it in your face. Or maybe it was one of those things where you think you'll be okay with something but then when you actually have to deal with it it turns out you aren't. It didn't even occur me that you were about to ask me out and I screwed up your plans!"

"That's why you said it was insensitive," Jack realizes. "I thought that was a weird choice of words."

Bitty laughs, then snuggles back into Jack's side. They sit quietly, Jack letting his nose trail through Bitty's soft hair as he kisses his head. Their arms are wrapped around each other tightly, and Bitty's knees have fallen over Jack's lap so that he's nearly sitting in it now. Jack's head is calm and quiet.

"I'm sorry it has to be a secret for now," Jack says. "You do deserve better than that."

Bitty lifts his head and frowns at Jack. "For now? Honey, you can't… I mean…"

Jack shrugs. "I don't know. I don't want to move too fast with it, but I don't want to hide forever. Not from everyone, at least. We'll see how things go, maybe eventually we could tell the guys or my parents. Maybe even some Falconers? I mean, someday. I wanna talk to my dad about that first, and I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"You…" Bitty blinks up at him. "You'd want to tell people on the Falconers? Maybe?"

Jack frowns. Was that really so shocking? "I mean, they seem like good people. I don't have a good idea how they'd react now, but eventually, if some of them seem like they'd be open to it and my dad doesn't think it's a terrible idea. I mean, we'll see how my season goes. If I'm doing well it'll be a lot easier."

Bitty rolls his eyes. "If."

"If. I'm not assuming anything, that's how you get complacent and get sent down." Bitty snorts, and Jack frowns again, even if the vote of confidence actually warms him inside. "Anyhow, yeah. And then someday… I mean, if I do really well… Once I have a Cup, then who knows, eh?"

"Who knows… what?"

Jack touches Bitty's face. "Maybe someday, if the Falcs are cool about it and I'm doing well enough that nobody can say it's hurt my game and I've got a Cup under my belt, maybe I won't have to hide you from anyone anymore. Ever again."

Bitty swallows, and Jack can see tears in his eyes. He thinks they're good tears, but he's not totally sure. But before he can ask, Bitty surges forward and kisses him.

When their mouths make contact Bitty's is half-open, a fact Jack immediately takes advantage of. Bitty's hands can't seem to sit still, grasping at his shoulders, the front of his shirt, his hair while kisses that started out passionate only intensify. Jack keeps his hands on Bitty's back, but eventually slides one up under his shirt to feel the smooth, hot skin. When that pulls a sound from deep in Bitty's throat, he gets his other arm down around Bitty's thighs and pulls him the rest of the way into his lap. Bitty gives a little surprised yelp at that, but doesn't stop kissing him.

After a few more minutes, Jack is just starting to think that if they keep this up he's going to start wanting a lot more when Bitty pulls back, pushing lightly on his chest and breathing hard.

"Lord," he pants. "Not that I couldn't keep that up all night, but we should probably either go eat dinner or wrap it up in the fridge for later."

Jack runs his hands up and down Bitty's back where he's got them up his shirt. Bitty's eyes fall half-closed and he hums in pleasure.

"We should eat," Jack says. "So we've got energy to keep this up all night."

Bitty blushes hard, but he doesn't look opposed. He kisses Jack one more time and then climbs off the bed. He holds out a hand and Jack takes it as he gets up off the bed himself, and doesn't let go as they head back out to the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Paul. This isn't the worst he's going to get, either.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://porcupine-girl.tumblr.com)


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